ill! 


•     » 


BANCROFT 

LIBRARY 
« 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Bancroft  Library 
University  of  CalKornto 


^^^r^& 


WILEY  &  PUTNAM'S 


LIBRARY  OF 


CHOICE  READING. 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


TEAYELS    II    PERU, 

•    * 
DURING  THE  YEARS  1838-1842, 


ON  THE  COAST,  IN  THE  SIERRA,  ACROSS   THE   CORDILLERAS 
AND  THE  ANDES,  INTO  THE  PRIMEVAL  FORESTS. 


BY  DR.  J.  J.  VON  TSCHUDI. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 


BY  THOMASINA  ROSS. 


IN    TWO    PARTS PART    I. 


NEW   YORK: 
WILEY    &    PUTNAM,    161    BROADWAY. 

1847. 


Bancroft  Library 

University  of  CalrfornU 

WITHDRAWN 


PREFACE. 


.- 

THE  Work  from  which  the  present  Volume  is  translated  consists 
of  extracts  from  the  Author's  Journal,  accompanied  by  his  recol- 
lections and  observations.  The  absence  of  chronological  ar- 
rangement will  be  sufficiently  accounted  for,  when  it  is  explained 
that  the  zoological  investigations  for  which  the  journey  was 
undertaken  frequently  required  the  Author  to  make  repeated 
visits  to  one  particular  place  or  district,  or  to  remain  for  a  con- 
siderable time  within  the  narrow  circuit  of  a  few  miles  ;  and 
sometimes  to  travel  rapidly  over  vast  tracts  of  country.  Dis- 
claiming any  intention  of  making  one  of  those  travelling  roman- 
ces, with  which  the  tourist  literature  of  the  day  is  overstocked, 
the  Author  has  confined  himself  to  a  plain  description  of  facts 
and  things  as  they  came  within  the  sphere  of  his  own  observa- 
tion. But  though  Dr.  Tschudi  lays  claim  to  no  merit  beyond  the 
truthfulness  of  his  narrative,  yet  the  reader  will  no  doubt  readily 
concede  to  him  the  merit  of  extensive  information,  and  happy 
descriptive  talent.  His  pictures  of  Nature,  especially  those 
relating  to  the  animal  world,  are  frequently  imbued  with  much 
of  the  charm  of  thought  and  style  which  characterizes  the  writings 
ofBuffon. 

Lima,  the  oldest  and  most  interesting  of  the  cities  founded  by 
the  Spaniards  on  the  western  coast  of  South  America,  has  been 
frequently  described  ;  but  no  previous  writer  has  painted  so  ani- 


vi  PREFACE. 


mated  a  picture  of  the  city  and  its  inhabitants,  as  that  contained 
in  the  following  volume.  After  quitting  the  capital  of  Peru,  Dr. 
Tschudi  went  over  ground  previously  untrodden  by  any  Euro- 
pean traveller.  He  visited  the  Western  Sierra,  the  mighty  chain 
of  the  Cordilleras,  the  boundless  level  heights,  the  deep  moun- 
tain valleys  on  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes,  and  the  vast 
primeval  forests.  Whilst  recounting  his  wanderings  in  these 
distant  regions,  he  describes  not  only  the  country  and  the  people, 
but  every  object  of  novelty  and  interest  in  the  animal,  vegetable, 
and  mineral  creations. 

Those  lovers  of  Natural  History  who  are  familiar  with  the 
German  language,  and  who  may  wish  to  make  themselves  exten- 
sively acquainted  with  the  animal  world,  in  those  parts  of  Peru 
visited  by  Dr.  Tschudi,  will  find  abundant  information  on  the 
subject  in  his  work,  with  plates,  entitled  "  Untersuchungen  iiber 
die  Fauna  Peruana."  The  present  Publication,  though  con- 
taining a  vast  deal  to  interest  the  naturalist,  is  addressed  to  the 
general  reader,  and  will,  it  is  presumed,  gratify  curiosity  respect- 
ing the  highly  interesting  and  little  known  regions  to  which  it 
relates.  It  may  fairly  be  said  that  no  previous  writer  has  given 
so  comprehensive  a  picture  of  Peru  ;  combining,  with  animated 
sketches  of  life  and  manners,  a  fund  of  valuable  information  on 
Natural  History  and  Commerce. 

T.  R. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PACK 

Embarkation  at  Havre — The  Voyage — Arrival  at  the  Island  of 
Chiloe — Landing — The  Gyr-Falcon — Punta  Arena — The  Island  of 
Chiloe  described— Climate  and  Cultivation— Cattle— The  Bay— San 
Carlos — The  Governor's  House — Poverty  and  Wretchedness  of  the 
Inhabitants  of  the  Town — Strange  method  of  Ploughing — Coasting 
Vessels — Smuggling — Zoology — Departure  from  Chiloe  ...  1 

CHAPTER  II. 

Valparaiso  and  the  adjacent  country — The  Bay — Aspect  of  the  Town — 
Lighthouses — Forts — Custom  House — Exchange — Hotels  and  Tav- 
erns— War  with  the  Peru-Bolivian  Confederation — First  Expedi- 
tion— Preparations  for  the  Second  Expedition — Embarkation  of  the 
Troops — Close  of  the  Port — July  Festival  in  honor  of  the  French 
Revolution — The  Mucle,  or  Mole — Police — Serenos,  or  Watchmen 
-Movable  Prisons — Clubs — Trade  of  Valparaiso — Santiago — 
Zoology 15 

CHAPTER  III. 

Juan  Fernandez — Robinson  Crusoe — Passage  to  Callao — San  Lorenzo 
— Rise  and  fall  of  the  coast — Mr.  Darwin's  opinions  on  this  subject 
— Callao — The  Fortress — Siege  by  the  Spaniards — General  Rodil — 
Siege  by  the  Chilians — The  Colocolo — Pirates — Zoology— Road  to 
Lima „  .  .26 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Lima — Situation  and  extent  of  the  City — Streets,  Houses,  Churches 
and  Convents — San  Pedro — The  Jesuits— Nunneries — Beatarios — 
Hospitals— San  Andres — The  Foundling  House — The  Pantheon — 
The  Palace— The  Plaza  Mayor— Pizarro— The  Cabildo— Fountains— 


CONTENTS. 


MM 

Palace  of  the  Inquisition — The  University — National  Library — Mu- 
seum of  Natural  History  and  Antiquities — Academy  of  Design — The 
Mint— The  Theatre— Circus  for  Cock-fighting— The  Bridge— The 
City  Wall — Santa  Catalina — Barracks  ...  .  .  42 

CHAPTER  V. 

Population  of  Lima — Its  diminution — Different  races  of  the  Inhabit- 
ants— Their  characteristics — Amusements — Education — The  Wo- 
men of  Lima — Their  Costume — the  Saya  y  Manto — Female  do- 
mestic life — Love  of  dress — Beatas — Indians — Slaves — Bosales — 
Free  Creoles — Negroes — Negresses — Black  Creoles — Their  varieties 
— Mestizos — Mulattoes — Pelanganas — Zambos — Chinos — Foreigners 
in  Lima — Corruption  of  the  Spanish  language 63 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Primary  Schools — Colleges — The  University — Monks — Saints — Santo 
Toribio  and  Santa  Rosa — Religious  Processions — Raising  the  Host — 
The  Noche  Buena — The  Carnival — Paseos,  or  Public  Promenades — 
Ice — Riding  and  Driving — Horses — Their  Equipments  and  Training 
— Mules — Lottery  in  Lima — Cookery — Breakfasts,  Dinners,  &c. — 
Coffee-houses  and  Restaurants — Markets — The  Plazo  Firme  del 
JLcho— Bull  Fights 89 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Geographical  Situation  of  Lima — Height  above  Sea  level — Tempera- 
ture— Diseases — Statistical  Tables  of  Births  and  Deaths — Earth- 
quakes— The  Valley  of  Lima — The  River  Rimac — Aqueducts, 
Trenches,  &c. — Irrigation — Plantations — Cotton — Sugar — Various 
kinds  of  Grain — Maize — Potatoes,  and  other  tuberous  roots — 
Pulse — Cabbage — Plants  used  for  Seasoning — Clover — The  Olive  and 
other  Oil  Trees — Fruits — Figs  and  Grapes — The  Chirimoya — The 
Palta — The  Banana  and  other  Fruits Ill 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Robbers  on  the  coast  of  Peru — The  Bandit  Leaders  Leon  and  Rayo 
— The  Corps  of  Montoneros — Watering  Places  near  Lima — Surco, 
Atte  and  Lurin — Pacchacamac — Ruins  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun 
— Difficulties  of  Travelling  on  the  Coast  of  Peru — Sea  Passage  to  Hua- 
cho— Indian  Canoes — Ichthyological  Collections — An  old  Spaniard's 
recollections  of  Alexander  Von  Humboldt — The  Padre  Requena — 
Huacho — Plundering  of  Burial  Places — Huaura — Malaria — The 
Sugar  Plantation  at  Luhmayo — Quipico — Ancient  Peruvian  Ruins — 
The  Salinas,  or  Salt  Pits — Gritalobos— Chancay — The  Piques — 


CONTENTS. 


Mode  of  extracting  them — Valley  of  the  Pasamayo — Extraordinary 
Atmospheric  Mirrors — Piedras  Gordas — PaloSeco    ....  137 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Coast  south  ward  of  Lima — Chilca — Curious  Cigar  cases  made  there 
— Yauyos — Pisco — Journey  to  Yea — A  night  on  the  Sand  Plains 
— Fatal  Catastrophe  in  the  year  1823 — Vine  Plantations  at  Yea — 
Brandy  and  Wine — Don  Domingo  Elias — Vessels  for  transporting 
Brandy  (Botijas  and  Odres) — Cruel  mode  of  skinning  Goats — Negro 
Carnival — Peculiar  species  of  Guinea  Pig — The  Salamanqueja — 
Cotton  Plantations — Quebrada  of  Huaitara — Sangallan — Guano — Re- 
trospect of  the  Peruvian  Coast — Rivers — Medanos — Winds — Change 
of  Seasons — The  Garuas — The  Lomas — Mammalia — Birds — Am- 
phibia    ....  160 

CHAPTER  X. 

Roads  leading  to  the  Sierra — Chaclacayo  and  Santa  Ines — Baromet- 
rical observations — San  Pedro  Mama — The  Rio  Seco — Extraordi- 
nary Geological  Phenomenon — Similar  one  described  by  Mr.  Dar- 
win— Surco — Diseases  peculiar  to  the  Villages  of  Peru — The  Ve- 
rugas — Indian  mode  of  treating  the  disorder — The  Bird-catching 
Spider — Horse-Shoeing — Indian  Tambos — San  Juan  de  Matucanas 
— The  Thorn-apple  and  the  Tonga — The  Tambo  de  Viso — Bridges 
— San  Mateo — Passports — Acchahuari — Malady  called  the  Veta — Its 
effects  on  horses — Singular  tact  and  caution  of  Mules — Antarangra 
and  Mountain  Passes — Curious  partition  of  Water — Piedra  Parada 
— Yauli — Indian  Smelting  Furnaces — Mineral  Springs — Portuguese 
Mine  owners — Saco — Oroya — Hanging  Bridges — Huaros — Roads 
leading  from  Oroya 179 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Cordillera  and  the  Andes — Signification  of  the  terms — Altitude  of 
the  Mountains  and  Passes — Lakes — Metals — Aspect  of  the  Cordil- 
lera— Shattered  Rocks — Maladies  caused  by  the  diminished  Atmo- 
spheric Pressure — The  Veta  and  the  Surumpe — Mountain  Storms — 
The  Condor — Its  habits — Indian  mode  of  Catching  the  Bird — The 
Puna  or  Despoblado — Climate — Currents  of  Warm  Air — Vegeta- 
tion— Tuberous  Plant  called  the  Maca — Animals  of  the  Puna — The 
Llama,  the  Alpaco,  the  Huanacu  and  the  Vicuna — The  Chacu  and 
the  Bolas — Household  Utensils  of  the  Ancient  Peruvians — The  Vis- 
cacha  and  the  Chinchilla — Puna  Birds  and  Amphibia — Cattle  and 
Pasture — Indian  Farms — Shepherds'  Huts — Ancient  Peruvian  Roads 
and  Buildings — Treasure  concealed  by  the  Indians  in  the  Puna.  .  203 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FAQI 

Cerro  de  Pasco — First  discovery  of  the  Mines — Careless  mode  of 
working  them — Mine  Owners  and  Mine  Laborers— Amalgamating 
and  Refining — Produce  of  the  Mines— Life  in  Cerro  de  Pasco — Dif- 
ferent Classes  of  the  Population — Gaming  and  Drunkenness — Extra- 
vagance and  Improvidence  of  the  Indian  Mine  Laborers — The  Cerro 
de  San  Fernando — Other  Important  Mining  Districts  in  Peru — The 
Salcedo  Mine  Castrovireyna — Vast  Productiveness  of  the  Silver 
Mines  of  Peru — Rich  Mines  secretly  known  to  the  Indians — Roads 
leading  from  Cerro  de  Pasco — The  Laguna  of  Chinchaycocha — Bat- 
tle of  Junin — Indian  Robbers — A  Day  and  a  Night  in  the  Puna  Wilds  229 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Sierra — Its  Climate  and  Productions — Inhabitants — Trade — Eggs 
circulated  as  money — Mestizos  in  the  Sierra — Their  Idleness  and 
Love  of  Gaming  and  Betting — Agriculture — The  Quinua  Plant,  a 
substitute  for  Potatoes — Growth  of  Vegetables  and  Fruits  in  the 
Sierra — Rural  Festivals  at  the  Seasons  of  Sowing  and  Reaping — Skill 
of  the  Indians  in  various  Handicrafts — Excess  of  Brandy-Drinking 
— Chicha — Disgusting  mode  of  making  it — Festivals  of  Saints — 
Dances  and  Bull-Fights — Celebration  of  Christmas-Day,  New- Year's 
Day,  Palm  Sunday,  and  Good  Friday — Contributions  levied  on  the 
Indians — Tardy  and  Irregular  Transmission  of  Letters — Trade  in 
Mules — General  Style  of  Building  in  the  Towns  and  Villages  of  the 
Sierra — Ceja  de  la  Montana 253 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Road  to  the  Primeval  Forests — Barbacoas,  or  Indian  Suspension  Bridges 
— Vegetation — Hollow  Passes — Zoology — the  Montana  Plantations 
— Inhabitants — Trade  in  Peruvian  Bark — Wandering  Indians — Wild 
Indians  or  Indies  Bravos — Languages,  Manners,  and  Customs  of  the 
Indies  Bravos — Dress — Warlike  Weapons  and  Hunting  Arms — 
Dwellings — Religion — Physical  formation  of  the  Wild  Indian  Tribes 
— Animals  of  the  Aboriginal  Forests — Mammalia — Hunting  the 
Ounce — Birds — Amphibia — Poisonous  Serpents — Huaco — Insects — 
Plants  ....  .  271 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Montana  of  San  Carlos  de  Vitoc — Villages — Hacienda  of  Maraynioc — 
the  Coca  Plant — Mode  of  Cultivating  and  Gathering  it — Mastication 
of  Coca — Evil  Consequences  of  its  excessive  Use — Its  Nutritious 
Qualities — Indian  Superstitions  connected  with  the  Coca  Plant — 


CONTENTS. 


Suggestions  for  its  Introduction  in  the  European  Navies — Fabulous 
animal  called  the  Carbunculo — The  Chunchos — Missions  to  Cerro 
de  la  Sal — Juan  Santos  Atahuallpa — The  Franciscan  Monks — De- 
population of  Vitoc 309 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Oppressions  exercised  by  the  Spaniards  upon  the  Peruvian  Indians — 
The  Repartimiento  and  the  Mita — Indian  Insurrections — Tupac 
Amaru — His  Capture  and  Execution — War  of  Independence — Cha- 
racter of  the  Peruvian  Indians — Music — Dress — Superstitions — Lon- 
gevity— Diminished  Population  of  Peru — Languages  spoken  by  the 
Aboriginal  Inhabitants — Specimen  of  Quichua  Poetry — The  Yara- 
vies — The  Quipu — Water  Conduits — Ancient  Buildings — Fortresses 
— Idols — Domestic  Utensils — Ancient  Peruvian  Graves — Mode  of 
Burying  the  Dead — Mummies 329 


TRAVELS    IN    PERU, 


CHAPTER  I. 

Embarkation  at  Havre — The  Voyage — Arrival  at  the  Island  of  Chiloe- 
Landing — The  Gyr-Falcon — Punta  Arena — The  Island  of  Chiloe  de- 
scribed—Climate and  Cultivation— Cattle — The  Bay — San  Carlos — The 
Governor's  House — Poverty  and  Wretchedness  of  the  Inhabitants  of  the 
Town— Strange  method  of  Ploughing— Coasting  Vessels — Smuggling — 
Zoology — Departure  from  Chiloe. 

ON  the  27th  of  February,  1838, 1  sailed  from  Havre-de-Grace  on 
board  the  "  Edmond."  This  vessel,  though  a  French  merchant- 
man, was  freighted  with  a  cargo  of  Swiss  manufactured  goods, 
suited  to  any  commercial  transactions  which  might  be  entered 
into  in  the  course  of  a  circumnavigatory  voyage.  It  was  a 
boisterous  morning.  A  fall  of  snow  and  heavy  clouds  soon  in- 
tercepted our  view  of  the  coast  of  France,  and  not  one  cheering 
sunbeam  shone  out  to  betoken  for  us  a  favorable  voyage.  We 
passed  down  the  British  Channel,  where  the  multitude  of  vessels, 
and  the  flags  of  all  nations,  presented  an  enlivening  picture,  and 
we  finally  cleared  it  on  the  5th  of  March.  Favored  by  a  brisk 
north  wind,  we  soon  reached  Madeira  and  came  in  sight  of  Tene- 
riife,  the  peak  being  just  perceptible  on  the  skirt  of  the  horizon. 
Easterly  breezes  soon  brought  us  to  the  island  of  Fogo,  which, 
having  passed  on  the  35th  day  of  our  voyage,  we  received  the 
usual  marine  baptism,  and  participated  in  all  the  ceremonies  ob- 
2 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


served  on  crossing  the  equator.  We  soon  reached  the  tropic  ot 
Capricorn,  and  endeavored  to  gain  the  channel  between  the 
Falkland  Islands  and  Patagonia ;  but  unfavorable  winds  obliged 
us  to  direct  our  course  eastwards,  from  the  Island  of  Soledad  to 
the  Staten  Islands.  On  the  3d  of  March  we  made  the  longi- 
tude of  Cape  Horn,  but  were  not  able  to  double  it  until  we  got 
into  the  60th  degree  of  south  latitude.  In  those  dangerous 
waters,  where  it  is  admitted  by  the  boldest  English  sailors  that 
the  waves  rage  more  furiously  than  in  any  other  part  of  the 
world,  we  encountered  great  risk  and  difficulty.  For  twenty- 
two  days  we  were  driven  about  on  the  fearfully  agitated  sea, 
southward  of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  and  were  only  saved  from  being 
buried  in  the  deep,  by  the  excellent  build  and  soundness  of  our 
ship. 

We  suffered  much,  and  were  long  delayed  by  this  storm  ;  but 
when  it  subsided,  a  smart  breeze  sprang  up  from  the  southward, 
and  we  held  our  course  along  the  Pacific  to  the  coast  of  Chile. 
After  a  voyage  of  99  days  we  cast  anchor  on  Sunday  the  5th  of 
June,  in  the  Bay  of  San  Carlos.  Like  the  day  of  our  departure 
from  Europe,  that  of  our  arrival  off  Chiloe  was  gloomy  and  over- 
cast. Heavy  clouds  obscured  the  long-looked-for  island,  and  its 
picturesque  shore  could  only  be  seen,  when,  at  intervals,  the  wind 
dispersed  the  dark  atmospheric  veil.  We  had  no  sooner  cast  an- 
chor than  several  boats  came  alongside  rowed  by  Indians,  who  of- 
fered us  potatoes,  cabbage,  fish,  and  water,  in  exchange  for  tobac- 
co. Only  those  who  have  been  long  at  sea  can  form  an  idea  of 
the  gratification  which  fresh  provisions,  especially  vegetables,  af- 
ford to  the  weary  voyager.  In  a  couple  of  hours,  the  harbor- 
master came  on  board  to  examine  the  ship,  the  cargo,  &c.,  and  to 
give  us  permission  to  go  ashore.  The  long-boat  being  got  out, 
and  well  manned,  we  stepped  into  it,  and  were  conveyed  to  the 
harbor.  The  Bay  of  San  Carlos  being  shallow,  large  ships,  or 
vessels,  heavily  laden,  are  obliged  to  go  three  English  miles  or 
more  from  the  landing-place  before  they  can  anchor.  Our  boat 
was  gaily  decorated  and  newly  painted  ;  but  this  was  mere  out- 
side show,  for  it  was  in  a  very  unsound  condition.  During  our 
passage  through  the  tropics,  the  sun  had  melted  the  pitch  between 
the  planks  of  the  boat,  which  lay  on  the  deck  keel  uppermost. 


BAY   OF   SAN  CARLOS. 


In  this  crazy  boat,  we  had  scarcely  got  a  quarter  of  a  league 
from  the  ship,  when  the  water  rushed  in  so  forcibly  through  all 
the  cracks  and  fissures,  that  it  was  soon  more  than  ankle  deep. 
Unluckily  the  sailors  had  forgotten  to  put  on  board  a  bucket  or 
anything  for  baling  out  the  water,  so  that  we  were  obliged  to  use 
our  hats  and  boots  for  that  purpose.  Fourteen  persons  were 
crowded  together  in  this  leaky  boat,  and  the  water  continued 
rising,  until  at  length  we  began  to  be  seriously  apprehensive  for 
our  safety,  when,  fortunately,  our  situation  was  observed  by  the 
people  on  shore.  They  promptly  prepared  to  send  out  a  boat  to 
our  assistance,  but  just  as  it  was  got  afloat,  we  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  pier,  happy  once  more  to  set  our  feet  on  terra  Jirma. 

Our  first  business  was  to  seek  shelter  and  refreshment. 
There  is  no  tavern  in  San  Carlos,  but  there  is  a  sort  of  substitute 
for  one,  kept  by  an  old  Corsican,  named  Filippi,  where  captains 
of  ships  usually  take  up  their  quarters.  Filippi,  who  recognized 
an  old  acquaintance  in  one  of  our  party,  received  us  very  kindly, 
and  showed  us  to  apartments  which  certainly  had  no  claim  to 
the  merits  of  either  cleanliness  or  convenience.  They  were 
long,  dark,  quadrangular  rooms,  without  windows,  and  were 
destitute  of  any  article  of  furniture,  except  a  bed  in  a  kind  of 
recess. 

As  soon  as  I  got  on  shore,  I  saw  a  multitude  of  small  birds  of 
prey.  They  keep  in  flocks,  like  our  sparrows,  hopping  about 
everywhere,  and  perching  on  the  hedges  and  house-tops.  I 
anxiously  wished  for  an  opportunity  to  make  myself  better  ac- 
quainted with  one  of  them.  Presuming  that  shooting  in  the 
town  might  be  displeasing,  to  the  inhabitants,  who  would  natu- 
rally claim  to  themselves  a  sort  of  exclusive  sporting  right,  I 
took  my  gun  down  to  the  sea-shore,  and  there  shot  one  of  the 
birds.  It  belonged  to  the  Gyr-Falcon  family  (Pofyborinice),  and 
was  one  of  the  species  peculiar  to  South  America  (Polylorus  chi- 
mango,  Vieil).  The  whole  of  the  upper  part  of  the  body  is 
brown,  but  single  feathers  here  and  there  have  a  whitish-brown 
edge.  On  the  tail  are  several  indistinct  oblique  stripes.  The 
under-part  of  the  body  is  whitish-brown,  and  is  also  marked  with 
transverse  stripes  feebly  defined.  The  bird  I  shot  measured 
from  the  point  of  the  beak  to  the  end  of  the  tail  1  foot  6 £  inches. 


TRAVELS  IN   PERU. 


Though  these  Gyr-Falcons  live  socially  together,  yet  they  are 
very  greedy  and  contentious  about  their  prey.  They  snap  up, 
as  food,  all  the  offal  thrown  out  of  doors ;  and  thus  they  render 
themselves  serviceable  to  the  inhabitants,  who  consequently  do 
not  destroy  them.  In  some  of  the  valleys  of  Peru,  I  met  with 
these  birds  again,  but  very  rarely  and  always  single  and  soli- 
tary. I  continued  my  excursions  on  the  sea-shore,  but  with 
little  satisfaction,  for  the  pouring  rain  had  driven  animals  of 
every  kind  to  their  lurking-holes.  After  a  few  days,  I  went  on 
board  the  "  Edmond,"  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  PUNTA  ARENA, 
a  town  on  the  side  of  the  bay,  whither  our  boat  used  to  be 
sent  for  fresh  water.  The  ground  surrounding  the  spring 
whence  the  ships  obtain  supplies  of  water,  is  sandy,  and  it  be- 
comes exceedingly  marshy  further  inland.  After  wandering 
about  for  a  few  hours,  I  found  myself  quite  lost  in  a  morass,  out 
of  which  I  had  to  work  my  way  with  no  little  difficulty.  The 
whole  produce  of  my  hard  day's  sport  consisted  of  an  awlbeak, 
a  small  dark-brown  bird  (Opeihiorhyncus  patagonicus),  and  some 
land-snails.  On  our  return,  as  we  were  nearing  the  ship,  we 
killed  a  seal  (Otaria  chiknsis,  Mull.),  which  was  rising  after  a 
dive,  close  to  the  boat. 

On  the  22d  of  June,  all  our  ship's  company  were  on  board  by 
order  of  the  captain.  We  weighed  anchor,  and  cruized  about 
for  some  time.  At  length,  about  five  in  the  afternoon,  we  re- 
turned, and  the  ship  was  anchored  again  precisely  on  the  spot 
she  had  left  a  few  hours  before.  It  was  set  down  in  the  log-book 
that  the  wind  was  not  sufficiently  favorable  to  allow  the  ship  to 
pass  out  safely  through  the  narrow  entrance  to  the  bay.  But 
all  on  board  were  well  aware  that  this  was  merely  a  pretence  on 
the  part  of  the  captain,  who,  for  some  reason  or  other,  wished  to 
stop  longer  at  San  Carlos. 

I  was  very  much  pleased  at  this  opportunity  of  prolonging 
my  stay  at  the  Island  of  Chiloe,  hoping  that  better  weather 
jvould  enable  me  to  make  an  excursion  into  the  interior.  But 
Jie  sky  still  continued  overcast,  and  the  rain  poured  inces- 
santly. One  day,  however,  I  undertook  a  journey  to  Castro,  in 
company  with  the  French  Charge  d'Affaires  to  Peru,  one  of  my 
fellow  passengers  on  the  voyage.  A  merchant  accommodated 


THE  ISLAND   OF  CHILOE. 


us  with  two  horses,  saddled  in  the  Chilian  manner ;  but  he 
warned  us  to  be  on  our  guard,  as  horses  were  often  restive 
when  just  returned  from  their  summer  pasturage.  We  set  off 
very  promisingly.  The  commencement  of  our  ride  was  pleas- 
ant enough,  though  the  road  was  steep  and  very  difficult.  It 
sometimes  lay  over  smooth  slippery  stones,  then  through  deep 
marshes,  or  over  scattered  logs  of  wood,  which  bore  evidence  of 
attempts  to  render  the  ground  passable,  by  this  rude  kind  of 
paving.  After  we  had  ridden  for  several  hours  in  the  forest, 
the  rain  checked  our  further  progress,  and  we  turned,  to  re- 
trace our  way  back.  Our  horses  seemed  well  pleased  with 
the  project  of  returning  home.  For  a  time  they  proceeded 
with  wonderful  steadiness ;  but  on  coming  to  a  part  of  the  road 
where  the  ground  was  comparatively  level  and  firm,  they  quick- 
ened their  pace,  and  at  length  dashed  forward  through  the  wood, 
uncontrolled  by  the  bridle.  The  long  narrow  saddle,  with  its 
woollen  covering,  the  crescent-shaped  wooden  stirrups,  and  the 
heavy  spurs,  with  their  clumsy  rowels,  baffled  all  our  skill  in 
horsemanship,  and  it  was  with  no  little  difficulty  we  kept  our 
seats.  We  thought  it  best  to  give  the  animals  the  rein,  and  they 
galloped  through  the  umbrageous  thickets,  until  at  last,  panting 
and  breathless,  they  stuck  in  a  morass.  Here  we  recovered 
our  control  over  them,  and  pursued  the  remainder  of  our  jour- 
ney without  further  accident,  though  we  were  drenched  to  the 
skin  on  our  return  to  the  town. 

On  subsequent  days,  I  took  my  rambles  on,  foot,  and  found 
myself  richly  rewarded  thereby.  The  long  evenings  we  spent 
in  the  company  of  our  host  and  the  harbor-master,  from  both  of 
whom  I  obtained  some  useful  information  respecting  the  island. 

Chiloe  is  one  of  the  largest  islands  of  the  Archipelago  which 
extends  along  the  west  coast  of  South  America,  from  42°  south 
lat.  to  the  Straits  of  Magellan.  It  is  about  23  German  miles 
long,  and  10  broad.  A  magnificent,  but  almost  inaccessible 
forest  covers  the  unbroken  line  of  hills  stretching  along  Chiloe, 
and  gives  to  the  island  a  charming  aspect  of  undulating  luxuri- 
ance. Seldom,  however,  ca^the  eye  command  a  distinct  view 
of  those  verdant  hills  ;  for  overhanging  clouds  surcharged  with 
rain,  almost  constantly  veil  the  spreading  tops  of  the  trees.  At 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


most  parts  of  the  shore  the  declivity  is  rapid.  There  are  many 
inlets,  which,  though  small,  afford  secure  anchorage ;  but  there 
are  no  harbors  of  any  magnitude.  While  Castro  was  the  capi- 
tal of  the  island,  Chacao  was  the  principal  port;  but  San 
Carlos  having  become  the  residence  of  the  governor,  this  latter 
place  is  considered  the  chief  harbor ;  and  with  reason,  for  its 
secure,  tranquil  bay  unites  all  the  advantages  the  navigator  can 
desire  on  the  stormy  coast  of  South  Chile.  At  Chacao,  on  the 
contrary,  reefs  and  strong  currents  render  the  entrance  danger- 
ous and  the  anchorage  insecure. 

Chiloe  is  but  little  cultivated,  and  scantily  populated.  If  the 
statement  of  my  informant,  the  harbor-master,  be  correct,  Chiloe 
and  the  adjacent  small  islands  contain  only  from  48,000  to  50,000 
inhabitants,  part  of  whom  live  in  ranches  (huts),  and  part  in  a 
few  villages.  Next  to  San  Carlos,  and  the  half-deserted  Castro, 
to  which  the  title  of  "  City"  is  given,  the  chief  places  are  Cha- 
cao, Vilipilli,  Cucao,  Velinoe.  It  is  only  in  the  neighborhood  of 
these  towns  or  villages  that  the  forest  trees  have  been  felled,  and 
their  removal  has  uncovered  a  fertile  soil,  which  would  reward 
by  a  hundred-fold  the  labor  of  the  husbandman. 

The  climate  of  the  island  is  moist  and  cool,  and  upon  the 
whole  very  unpleasant.  During  the  winter  months,  the  sun  is 
seldom  seen  ;  and  it  is  a  proverbial  saying  in  Chiloe,  that  it  rains 
six  days  of  the  week,  and  is  cloudy  on  the  seventh.  In  summer 
there  are  occasionally  fine  days,  though  seldom  two  in  succes- 
sion. The  thick  forests  are  therefore  never  dry,  and  beneath 
the  trees,  the  vegetation  of  the  marshy  soil  is  peculiarly  luxuri- 
ant. The  constant  moisture  is  one  of  the  greatest  obstacles  to 
agriculture.  To  clear  the  ground  for  cultivation,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  burn  the  forests,  and  as  the  trees  are  always  damp, 
that  could  not  be  done  without  great  difficulty.  To  some  kinds  of 
culture  the  soil  is  not  favorable.  The  cereals,  for  example,  sel- 
dom thrive  in  Chiloe ;  the  seed  rots  after  the  ear  is  formed. 
Maize  grows  best ;  though  it  shoots  too  much  into  leaf,  and  bears 
only  small  grain.  The  damp  soil,  on  the  other  hand,  is  favorable 
to  potatoes,  of  which  vast  quantities  are  planted.  There  is  a 
degenerate  kind  of  potato,  very  abundant  in  Chiloe.  On  bisec- 
tion it  exhibits  a  greater  or  lesser  number  of  concentric  rings, 


CLIMATE  AND  CULTIVATION. 


alternately  white  and  violet ;  sometimes  all  of  the  latter  color. 
It  is  well  known  that  southern  Chile  is  the  native  land  of  the  po- 
tato. In  Chiloe  and  also  in  the  neighboring  islands,  potatoes  grow 
wild  ;  but,  both  in  size  and  flavor,  they  are  far  inferior  to  the  cul- 
tivated kind.  Like  the  maize,  they  shoot  up  in  large  leaves  and 
stalks.  The  climate  is  also  very  favorable  to  the  different  kinds 
of  the  cabbage  plant ;  but  peas  and  beans  do  not  thrive  there. 

In  the  forests  there  are  often  clear  spots  on  which  the  grass 
grows  to  a  great  height,  and  supplies  excellent  pasturage  for 
numerous  herds  of  cattle.  The  inhabitants  of  Chiloe  breed  for 
their  own  use,  horses,  oxen,  sheep,  and  swine.  The  horses  are 
small,  and  not  handsomely  formed,  but  very  spirited  and  strong. 
Some  are  scarcely  twelve  hands  high.  The  cows  are  small  and 
lank,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  swine  and  sheep.  It  is 
remarkable  that  all  the  rams  have  more  than  two  horns  •  the 
greater  number  have  three,  and  many  are  furnished  with  four 
or  five.  I  afterwards  observed  the  same  in  Peru.  The  domestic 
animals  on  this  island,  notwithstanding  the  abundance  of  food, 
are  small,  and  sickly-looking.  I  believe  the  cause  to  be  want  of 
care,  for  they  remain  all  the  year  round  exposed  to  every  sort 
of  weather  and  discomfort. 

The  population  of  Chiloe  consists  of  Whites,  Indians,  and  peo- 
ple of  mixed  blood.  The  Indians  are  now  few  in  number,  and 
those  few  are  chiefly  in  the  southern  part  of  the  island,  and  the 
adjacent  islets.  They  are  of  the  Araucana  race,  and  appear  to 
be  a  sept  between  that  race  and  the  people  of  Tierra  del  Fuego, 
on  the  one  side,  and  the  Pampas  Indians  on  the  other.  People 
of  mixed  races  form  by  far  the  greater  portion  of  the  population. 
They  are  met  with  in  every  variety  of  amalgamation.  Taken 
in  general,  they  are  the  reverse  of  handsome.  They  are  short 
and  thick-set,  and  have  long,  straight  coarse  hair.  Their  faces 
are  round  and  full,  their  eyes  small,  and  the  expression  of  their 
countenances  is  unintelligent.  The  whites  are  either  Chilenos 
or  Spaniards  :  the  latter  are  almost  the  only  Europeans  who 
have  become  settlers  here. 

The  principal  town,  San  Carlos,  called  by  the  natives  "  An- 
cud,"  lies  on  the  northern  coast  of  a  very  fine  bay.  Without  a 
good  chart,  the  entrance  to  this  bay  is  difficult.  Numerous 


TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 


small  islands  form  a  labyrinth,  out  of  which  vessels,  if  not  com- 
manded by  very  experienced  pilots,  cannot  easily  be  extricated. 
Besides,  near  the  land,  the  sky  is  usually  obscured  by  clouds 
which  prevent  any  observation  for  the  latitude,  as  the  sun's  alti- 
tude cannot  be  taken  even  at  noon  j  and  when  the  sun  gets 
lower,  the  hills,  which  would  serve  as  guiding  points,  cease  to 
be  distinctly  seen. 

Several  whalers,  which  for  some  days  vainly  endeavored  to 
work  through  this  passage,  were  afterwards  obliged  to  direct 
their  course  northward,  and  to  cast  anchor  in  Valivia.  One  of 
the  largest  islands  at  the  entrance  of  the  bay  is  San  Sebastian, 
where  there  are  numerous  herds  of  cattle.  Cochino  is  a  small 
island,  distant  only  a  few  miles  from  San  Carlos.  It  is  hilly, 
and  thickly  crowned  with  brush- wood.  It  has  only  one  landing- 
place,  and  that  is  rather  insecure  for  boats.  The  water  of  the 
bay  is  remarkably  clear  and  good  ;  only  round  the  little  island 
of  Cochino,  and  along  the  harbor,  it  is  covered  with  an  immense 
quantity  of  sea-moss,  which  often  renders  the  landing  difficult. 
It  frequently  happens  that  commanders  of  ships,  wishing  to  go 
on  board  to  make  sail  during  the  night,  get  out  of  the  right 
course,  and  instead  of  going  to  the  ship,  steer  to  Cochino  and  get 
into  the  moss,  where  their  boats  stick  fast,  till  returning  day- 
light enables  them  to  work  their  way  out. 

The  poor  inhabitants  boil  this  sea-moss  and  eat  it.  It  is  very 
salt  and  slimy,  and  is  difficult  of  digestion.  Among  the  people 
of  Chiloe,  this  sea-moss  occupies  an  important  place  in  surgery. 
When  a  leg  or  an  arm  is  broken,  after  bringing  the  bone  into  its 
proper  position,  a  broad  layer  of  the  moss  is  bound  round  the 
fractured  limb.  In  drying,  the  slime  causes  it  to  adhere  to  the 
skin,  and  thus  it  forms  a  fast  bandage,  which  cannot  be  ruffled 
or  shifted.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  weeks,  when  the  bones 
have  become  firmly  united,  the  bandage  is  loosened  by  being 
bathed  with  tepid  water,  and  it  is  then  easily  removed.  The 
Indians  of  Chiloe  were  acquainted,  long  before  the  French  sur- 
geons, with  the  use  of  the  paste  bandage. 

The  town  of  San  Carlos  is  dirty  ;  the  streets  unpaved,  nar- 
row, and  crooked.  The  houses,  with  few  exceptions,  are 
wretched  wooden  huts,  for  the  most  part  without  windows ;  but 


POVERTY  AND  UNCLEANLINESS. 


there  is  a  board  divided  in  the  middle  horizontally,  the  upper 
part  of  which  being  open,  it  serves  for  a  window,  and  when  both 
parts  are  open,  it  forms  a  door.  The  flooring  usually  consists 
merely  of  hard-trodden  clay,  covered  with  straw  matting.  The 
furniture,  like  the  apartments,  is  rude  and  inconvenient.  These 
remarks  of  course  apply  to  the  habitations  of  the  very  poor  class 
of  people.  The  richer  families  live  in  more  comfortable  style. 
Of  the  public  buildings,  the  custom-house  and  the  governor's 
residence  are  the  most  considerable,  but  both  make  a  very  in- 
different appearance.  In  front  of  the  governor's  house,  which 
occupies  a  tolerably  large  space  of  ground,  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  town,  a  sentinel  is  constantly  stationed.  This  sentinel 
parades  to  and  fro,  without  shoes  or  stockings,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  without  a  coat,  his  arms  being  covered  only  by  his  shirt 
sleeves.  As  to  a  cap,  that  seems  to  be  considered  as  unnecessary 
a  part  of  a  well-conditioned  uniform,  as  shoes  and  stockings. 
After  sunset  every  person  who  passes  the  governor's  house  is 
challenged.  "  Who  goes  there  ?"  is  the  first  question  ;  the 
second  is  Que  genie  ?  (what  country  ?)  The  sailors  amuse 
themselves  by  returning  jocular  answers  to  these  challenges ; 
and  the  sentinel,  irritated  by  their  jeers,  sometimes  runs  after 
them  through  part  of  the  town,  and  when  weary  of  the  chace 
returns  to  his  post. 

Poverty  and  uncleanliness  vie  with  each  other  in  San  Carlos. 
The  lower  class  of  the  inhabitants  are  exceedingly  filthy,  parti- 
cularly the  women,  whose  usual  dress  is  a  dirty  woollen  gown, 
and  a  greasy  looking  mantilla.  In  their  damp  gloomy  habita- 
tions, they  squat  down  on  the  floor,  close  to  the  brasero  (chafing 
pan),  which  also  serves  them  as  a  stove  for  cooking.  They 
bruise  maize  between  two  stones,  and  make  it  into  a  thick  kind 
of  soup  or  porridge.  When  employed  in  paring  potatoes  or  ap- 
ples, or  in  cutting  cabbages,  they  throw  the  skins  and  waste 
leaves  on  the  ground,  so  that  they  are  frequently  surrounded  by 
a  mass  of  half-decayed  vegetable  matter.  Their  favorite  beve- 
rage is  mate  (the  Paraguay  tea),  of  which  they  partake  at  all  hours 
of  the  day.  The  mode  of  preparing  and  drinking  the  mate  is  as 
follows :  a  portion  of  the  herb  is  put  into  a  sort  of  cup  made  from 
a  gourd,  and  boiling  water  is  poured  over  it.  The  mistress  of 

2* 


10  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

the  house  then  takes  a  reed  or  pipe,  to  one  end  of  which  a 
strainer  is  affixed,*  and  putting  it  into  the  decoction,  she  sucks 
up  a  mouthful  of  the  liquid.  She  then  hands  the  apparatus  to 
the  person  next  to  her,  who  partakes  of  it  in  the  same  manner, 
and  so  it  goes  round.  The  mistress  of  the  house  and  all  her 
guests  suck  the  aromatic  fluid  through  the  same  pipe  or  bombilla. 

The  poverty  of  the  people  is  extreme.  Specie  is  seldom  cur- 
rent, and  is  exclusively  in  the  hands  of  a  few  traders,  who 
supply  the  Indians  with  European  articles,  in  payment  of  their 
labor,  or  in  exchange  for  the  produce  of  the  island,  which  is  sent 
to  Chile  and  Peru.  With  much  surprise  I  learned  that  there  is 
no  saw-mill  in  Chiloe,  where  the  vast  abundance  of  trees  would 
furnish  a  supply  of  excellent  deals,  for  which  ready  and  good 
payment  would  be  obtained  in  Peru. 

The  inhabitants  direct  their  industry  chiefly  to  agriculture 
and  navigation.  But  rude  and  imperfect  are  their  implements 
for  field  labor,  as  well  as  their  nautical  vessels.  To  a  stranger 
nothing  can  appear  more  extraordinary  than  their  mode  of 
ploughing.  As  to  a  regular  plough,  I  do  not  believe  such  a  thing 
is  known  in  Chiloe.  If  a  field  is  to  be  tilled,  it  is  done  by  two 
Indians,  who  are  furnished  with  long  poles,  pointed  at  one  end. 
The  one  thrusts  his  pole,  pretty  deeply,  and  in  an  oblique  direc- 
tion, into  the  earth,  so  that  it  forms  an  angle  with  the  surface  of 
the  ground.  The  other  Indian  sticks  his  pole  in  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, and  also  obliquely,  and  he  forces  it  beneath  that  of  his 
fellow-laborer,  so  that  the  first  pole  lies  as  it  were  above  the 
second.  The  first  Indian  then  presses  on  his  pole,  and  makes  it 
work  on  the  other,  as  a  lever  on  its  fulcrum,  and  the  earth  is 
thrown  up  by  the  point  of  the  pole.  Thus  they  gradually  ad- 
vance, until  the  whole  field  is  furrowed  by  this  laborious  process. 

The  Chiloe  boats  are  merely  hulks.  They  obey  the  helm 
reluctantly,  but  they  bear  away  before  the  wind.  Several  indi- 
viduals usually  join  together,  and  convey  in  these  boats,  the 
produce  of  their  respective  localities,  in  the  southern  villa- 
ges, to  San  Carlos.  Women  as  well  as  men  take  their  turn  at 


*  Bombilla  is  the  name  given  to  this  pipe,  and  the  cup  or  gourd  in  which 
the  decoction  of  the  mate  is  prepared,  is  called  the  macerina. 


CHILOE  COASTING  BOATS.  11 


rowing  the  boats,  and  after  being  out  all  day,  they  run  into  some 
creek,  where  they  pass  the  night.  When  a  favorable  breeze 
springs  up,  they  hoist  a  sail,  made  of  ponchos.  The  poncho  is 
an  important  article  of  male  clothing  in  this  country.  It  consists 
of  a  piece  of  woollen  cloth,  measuring  from  5  to  7  feet  long,  and 
from  3  to  4  feet  broad.  In  the  middle  there  is  a  slit  from  12  to 
14  inches  long;  through  this  slit  the  wearer  passes  his  head. 
The  poncho  thus  rests  on  the  shoulders,  and  hangs  down  in  front 
and  behind  as  low  as  the  knees.  At  the  sides,  it  reaches  to  the 
elbow,  or  middle  of  the  forearm,  and  thus  covers  the  whole  of 
the  body.  The  carters  and  wagoners  in  Swabia  wear,  in  rainy 
weather,  a  covering  somewhat  resembling  the  poncho,  which 
they  make  out  of  their  woollen  horse-coverings.  When  a  Chiloe 
boat  is  on  its  passage  on  the  coast,  and  a  sail  happens  to  be  want- 
ed, the  men  give  up  their  ponchos  and  the  women  their  mantil- 
las. The  slits  in  the  ponchos  are  stitched  up,  and  both  ponchos 
and  mantillas  being  sewn  together  are  fixed  to  a  pole  or  bar  of 
wood,  which  is  hoisted  to  a  proper  position  on  the  mast.  This 
patchwork  sail  can  only  be  serviceable  when  the  wind  is  fresh. 
At  nightfall,  when  the  boat  runs  into  one  of  the  creeks  for  shel- 
ter, the  sail  is  lowered,  and  the  sewing  being  unpicked,  the  pon- 
chos and  mantillas  are  returned  to  their  respective  owners,  who 
wrap  themselves  in  them,  and  go  to  sleep. 

There  is  but  little  trade  in  San  Carlos,  for  Chile  itself  possess- 
es in  superfluity  all  the  productions  of  Chiloe,  and  the  inhabitants 
of  the  island  are  so  poor,  and  their  wants  so  limited,  that  they 
require  but  few  foreign  articles.  The  port  is  therefore  seldom 
visited  by  any  trading  vessel  from  Europe.  Some  of  the  Chiloe 
boats  keep  up  a  regular  traffic  along  the  coast.  They  carry 
wood,  brooms,  hams,  and  potatoes,  to  Valparaiso,  Arica,  Callao, 
&c.,  and  they  bring  back  in  return,  linen,  woollen  and  cotton 
cloths,  ironware,  tobacco,  and  spirits. 

North  American  and  French  whalers  have  for  several  years 
past  been  frequent  visitors  to  San  Carlos,  as  they  can  there  pro- 
vide themselves,  at  a  cheap  rate,  with  provisions  for  the  long  fish- 
ing season.  All  the  captains  bring  goods,  which  they  smuggle 
on  shore,  where  they  sell  or  exchange  them  at  a  high  profit.  A 
custom-house  officer  is,  indeed,  sent  on  board  every  vessel  to  ex- 


12  TRAVELS  IN   PERU. 

amine  what  is  to  be  unshipped ;  but  a  few  dollars  will  silence 
him,  and  make  him  favor  the  contraband  operations,  which  are 
carried  on  without  much  reserve.  A  French  captain  brought  to 
Chiloe  a  quantity  of  water-proof  cloaks  and  hats,  made  of  a  sort 
of  black  waxed  cloth,  and  sold  them  to  a  dealer  in  San  Carlos. 
To  evade  the  duty,  he  sent  his  men  on  shore  each  wearing  one 
of  these  hats  and  cloaks,  which  they  deposited  in  the  dealer's 
store,  and  then  returned  on  board  the  ship,  dressed  in  their 
sailors'  garb.  This  was  repeated  so  often,  that  at  length  it  was 
intimated  to  the  captain  that,  if  his  men  had  a  fancy  to  come  on 
shore  with  such  hats  and  cloaks  they  would  be  permitted  to  do 
so,  but  it  must  be  on  condition  of  their  returning  on  board 
dressed  in  the  same  costume. 

The  people  of  Ancud  (San  Carlos),  formerly  so  simple  and 
artless,  have  gradually  become  corrupt  and  degenerate,  since 
their  frequent  intercourse  with  the  whale-fishers.  Among  the 
female  portion  of  the  population,  depravity  of  morals  and  unbe- 
coming boldness  of  manners  have  in  a  great  degree  superseded 
the  natural  simplicity  which  formerly  prevailed.  All  the  vices 
of  the  lowest  class  of  sailors,  of  which  the  crews  of  the  South 
Sea  Whalers  are  composed,  have  quickly  taken  root  in  San  Car- 
los, and  the  inseparable  consequences  of  those  vices  will  soon  be 
fatal  to  the  moral  and  physical  welfare  of  the  inhabitants. 

In  the  interior  of  the  island  of  Chiloe  there  are  few  quadru- 
peds. The  largest,  the  domestic  animals  excepted,  is  a  fox 
(Canisfulvipes,  Wat.),  which  was  first  discovered  by  the  natu- 
ralists who  accompanied  Capt.  King's  expedition.  This  is  the 
only  beast  of  prey.  The  coast  abounds  in  seals  of  the  sea-dog 
species  (Otaria  chilensis,  Mull.,  Otaria  Ursina,  Per.,  Otaria  jubata, 
Desm.) — in  sea-otters  (Otaria  chilensis,  Ben.) — and  in  the  water 
mouse  (Myopotamus  Coypus,  J.  Geoff).  Among  the  birds,  there 
are  some  very  fine  species  of  ducks,  well  worthy  of  notice, 
which  are  also  found  on  the  continent  of  South  America.  There 
is  the  little  Cheucau  (Pleroptochus  rulecula,  Kettl.),  to  which  the 
Chilotes  attach  various  superstitious  ideas,  and  pretend  to  foretell 
good  or  ill  luck  from  its  song.  The  modulations  which  this  bird 
is  capable  of  uttering  are  numerous,  and  the  natives  assign  a 
particular  meaning  to  each.  One  day,  when  I  wished  to  have 


SUPERSTITION  OF  THE  INHABITANTS.  13 

some  shooting,  I  took  an  Indian  lad  with  me.  Having  levelled 
my  gun  at  one  of  these  birds,  which  was  sitting  in  a  low  bush, 
and  uttering  its  shrill  huit-huit,  my  young  companion  firmly 
grasped  my  arm,  earnestly  entreating  me  not  to  shoot  the  bird, 
as  it  had  sung  its  unlucky  note.  But  my  desire  to  possess  a  spe- 
cimen was  too  great  to  be  thus  baffled,  so  I  fired  my  gun  and 
brought  it  down.  I  was  engaged  in  examining  the  elegant  little 
bird,  when  a  mule,  probably  alarmed  by  the  shot,  came  running 
at  full  speed  towards  the  spot  where  we  were,  and  we  deemed  it 
prudent  to  get  behind  a  hedge  as  speedily  as  possible.  The  in- 
furiated mule  made  an  attack  on  my  gun,  which  was  resting 
against  the  hedge.  It  was  thrown  down,  bitten,  and  trampled  on 
by  the  mule.  The  Indian  boy  turned  to  me,  with  a  serious 
countenance,  and  said  : — "  It  is  well  if  we  escape  further  dan- 
ger !  I  told  you  the  bird  had  piped  bad  luck  !" 

The  day  fixed  for  our  departure  from  Chiloe  now  approached. 
The  wind,  which  had  heretofore  been  unfavorable  for  leaving  the 
port,  promised  to  change,  and  we  began  to  ship  provisions. 
Whilst  I  was  waiting  for  the  boat  which  was  to  take  me  on  board, 
I  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  the  dexterity  with  which  the 
Indians  slaughter  their  cattle.  This  business  is  performed  on  the 
Mole,  where,  in  the  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  by  two 
men  only,  an  ox  is  killed,  and  the  carcase  cut  up  into  the  proper 
pieces.  When  it  is  necessary  to  ship  live  oxen,  the  animals  are 
brought  to  the  shore,  where  their  feet  are  bound  together,  and 
then  they  are  rolled  over  planks  into  the  lancha  (boat).  On  near- 
ing  the  ship,  the  Indians  tie  a  rope  round  the  animal's  horns,  and 
then  the  sailors  hoist  him  up  with  a  strong  tackle.  It  is  a  curious 
sight  to  behold  a  strongly-bound  struggling  ox,  hanging  by  the 
tackle,  and  swinging  between  wind  and  water.  My  little  Chilo- 
tean  pony,  which  I  intended  to  take  to  Peru,  was  dealt  with  more 
gently :  he  was  got  on  board  with  a  girth,  purposely  made  for 
hoisting  horses  on  board  ship. 

At  length  we  sailed  out  of  the  bay  with  a  fresh  easterly  wind. 
Three  coasting  boats,  one -of  which  was  heavily  laden  with 
brooms,  left  the  roads  at  the  same  time,  and  their  crews  said 
they  hoped  to  reach  Valparaiso  before  us.  But  they  had  too  great 
confidence  in  their  round-bottomed  keels,  for  they  did  not  anchor 


14  TRAVELS  IN  PERU, 


in  their  place  of  destination  till  five  or  six  days  after  our  arrival. 
The  wind  soon  got  up,  blowing  W.N.W.,  but  rather  flat.  In 
the  course  of  the  night,  during  the  second  watch,  we  were  roused 
from  our  sleep  by  a  heavy  shock,  followed  by  a  peculiarly  tremu- 
lous motion  of  the  whole  ship.  We  concluded  we  had  struck 
in  passing  over  some  hidden  rock.  The  lead  was  thrown-,  but 
no  ground  was  found  ;  the  pumps  were  set  a-going,  but  we  were 
free  of  water.  The  captain  attributed  the  shock  to  an  earth- 
quake, and  on  our  arrival  at  Chile,  his  conjecture  was  con- 
firmed. In  Valdivia,  in  the  latitude  of  which  place  we  were  at 
the  time,  a  severe  shock  of  an  earthquake  had  been  experienced. 
After  a  pretty  favorable  passage  of  seven  days,  we  anchored 
on  the  30th  of  June  in  the  harbor  of  Valparaiso. 


VALPARAISO.  -J5 


CHAPTER  II. 

Valparaiso  and  the  adjacent  country — The  Bay — Aspect  of  the  Town- 
Lighthouses — Forts — Custom  House — Exchange — Hotels  and  Taverns — 
War  with  the  Peru-Bolivian  Confederation — First  Expedition — Prepa- 
rations for  the  Second  Expedition — Embarkation  of  the  Troops — Close 
of  the  Port — July  Festival  in  honor  of  the  French  Revolution — The 
Muele,  or  Mole — Police — Serenos,  or  Watchmen — Moveable  Prisons — 
Clubs — Trade  of  Valparaiso — Santiago — Zoology. 

THE  impression  produced  by  the  approach  to  Valparaiso  on  per- 
sons who  see  land  for  the  first  time  after  a  sea  voyage  of  several 
months',  duration,  must  be  very  different  from  that  felt  by  those 
who  anchor  in  the  port  after  a  passage  of  a  few  days  from  the 
luxuriantly  verdant  shores  of  the  islands  lying  to  the  south. 
Certainly,  none  of  our  ship's  company  would  have  been  disposed 
to  give  the  name  of  "  Vale  of  Paradise"  to  the  sterile,  monoto- 
nous coast  which  lay  outstretched  before  us;  and  yet,  to  the 
early  navigators,  its  first  aspect,  after  a  long  and  dreary  voyage, 
over  the  desert  ocean,  might  naturally  enough  have  suggested 
the  idea  of  an  earthly  paradise. 

Along  the  sea  coast  there  extends  a  range  of  round-topped 
hills,  15  or  16  hundred  feet  high,  covered  with  a  grey-brownish 
coating,  relieved  only  here  and  there  by  patches  of  dead  green, 
and  furrowed  by  clefts,  within  which  the  bright  red  of  tile-roofed 
houses  is  discernible.  Half- withered  cactus  trees,  the  only 
plants  which  take  root  in  the  ungenial  soil,  impart  no  life  to  the 
dreary  landscape.  The  hills  continue  rising  in  undulating  out- 
lines, and  extend  into  the  interior  of  the  country,  where  they 
unite  with  the  great  chain  of  the  Andes. 

The  bay  of  Valparaiso  is  open  on  the  north  and  west ;  on  the 
south  it  is  protected  by  a  little  promontory  called  the  Punta  de 
Coromilla.  In  this  direction  the  shore  is  steep  and  rocky,  and 


16  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

the  waves  break  against  it  with  great  fury.  From  the  Punta  de 
Coromilla  the  bay  extends  from  east  to  north-west  in  the  form  of 
a  gently  curved  crescent,  having  a  sloping,  sandy  beach,  which 
rises  very  gradually  towards  the  hills.  On  the  north  side  of  the 
bay  there  are  several  small  inlets,  almost  inaccessible  and  edged 
with  steep  rocks.  The  bay  is  sometimes  unsafe,  for  it  is  com- 
pletely unsheltered  on  the  north,  and  the  heavy  gales  which  blow 
from  that  point  frequently  end  in  storms.  At  those  times  the 
bay  is  furiously  agitated,  the  waves  sometimes  rising  as  high  as 
in  the  open  sea,  and  the  ships  are  obliged  to  cast  their  sheet-an- 
chors. Many  vessels  have  at  various  times  been  driven  from 
their  anchorage,  cast  ashore,  and  dashed  to  pieces  on  a  rock 
called  Little  Cape  Horn ;  for,  when  a  violent  gale  blows  from 
the  north,  it  is  impossible  to  get  out  to  sea.  Sailors  are  accus- 
tomed to  say  that  in  a  violent  storm  they  would  rather  be  tossed 
about  on  the  wide  ocean  than  be  at  anchor  in  the  bay  of  Valpa- 
raiso. But  against  the  south  wind,  though  sometimes  no  less 
boisterous  than  the  northern  gales,  the  harbor  affords  secure 
refuge,  being  perfectly  sheltered  by  the  Punta  de  Coromilla. 

The  town  of  Valparaiso  looks  as  if  built  on  terraces  at  the  foot 
of  the  range  of  hills  above  mentioned.  Northward  it  stretches 
out  on  the  level  sea  shore,  in  a  long  double  row  of  houses  called 
the  Almendral :  towards  the  south  it  rises  in  the  direction  of  the 
hills.  Two  clefts  or  chasms  (quebradas)  divide  this  part  of  the 
town  into  three  separate  parts  consisting  of  low,  shabby  houses. 
These  three  districts  have  been  named  by  the  sailors  after  the 
English  sea  terms  Fore-top,  Main-top,  and  Mizen-top.  The 
numerous  quebradas,  which  all  intersect  the  ground  in  a  parallel 
direction,  are  surrounded  by  poor-looking  houses.  The  wretch- 
ed, narrow  streets  running  along  these  quebradas  are,  in  winter, 
and  especially  at  night,  exceedingly  dangerous,  Valparaiso  being 
very  badly  lighted.  It  sometimes  happens  that  people  fall  over 
the  edges  of  the  chasms  and  are  killed,  accidents  which  not  un- 
frequently  occur  to  the  drunken  sailors  who  infest  these  quarters 
of  the  town. 

Viewed  from  the  sea,  Valparaiso  has  rather  a  pleasing  aspect, 
and  some  neat  detached  houses  built  on  little  levels,  artificially 
made  on  the  declivities  of  the  hills,  have  a  very  picturesque  ap- 


FIRST  ASPECT  OF  VALPARAISO.  17 

pearance.  The  scenery  in  the  immediate  background  is  gloomy  ; 
but,  in  the  distance,  the  summit  of  the  volcano  Aconcagua,  which 
is  23,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  which,  on  fine 
evenings,  is  gilded  by  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  imparts  a  pe- 
culiar charm  to  the  landscape. 

The  bay  is  protected  by  three  small  forts.  The  southernmost, 
situated  between  the  lighthouse  and  the  town,  has  five  guns. 
The  second,  which  is  somewhat  larger,  called  el  Castillo  de  San 
Antonio,  is  in  the  southern  inlet  of  the  bay.  Though  the  most 
strongly  fortified  of  the  three,  it  is  in  reality  a  mere  plaything. 
In  the  northern  part  of  the  town,  on  a  little  hillock,  stands  the 
third  fort,  called  el  Castillo  del  Rosario,  which  is  furnished  with 
six  pieces  of  cannon.  The  churches  of  Valparaiso  are  exceed- 
ingly plain  and  simple,  undistinguished  either  for  architecture 
or  internal  decoration. 

The  custom-house  is  especially  worthy  of  mention.  It  is  a 
beautiful  and  spacious  building,  and  from  its  situation  on  the 
Muele  (Mole)  is  an  object  which  attracts  the  attention  of  all  who 
arrive  at  Valparaiso.  In  the  neighborhood  of  the  custom-house 
is  the  exchange.  It  is  a  plain  building,  and  contains  a  large  and 
elegant  reading-room,  in  which  may  always  be  found  the  princi- 
pal European  newspapers.  In  this  reading-room  there  is  also  an 
excellent  telescope  by  Dollond,  which  is  a  source  of  amusement, 
by  affording  a  view  of  the  comical  scenes  sometimes  enacted  on 
board  the  ships  in  the  port. 

The  taverns  and  hotels  are  very  indifferent.  The  best  are 
kept  by  Frenchmen,  though  even  those  are  incommodious  and 
expensive.  The  apartments,  which  scarcely  contain  necessary 
articles  of  furniture,  are  dirty,  and  often  infested  with  rats.  In 
these  houses,  however,  the  table  is  tolerably  well  provided ;  for 
there  is  no  want  of  good  meat  and  vegetables  in  the  market. 
The  second-rate  taverns  are  far  beneath  the  very  worst  in  the 
towns  of  Europe. 

On  our  arrival  in  Valparaiso,  a  vast  deal  of  activity  and  bustle 
prevailed  in  the  harbor.  Chile  had  declared  war  against  the 
Peru-Bolivian  confederation,  and  was  fitting  out  a  new  expedi- 
tion for  the  invasion  of  Peru.  At  its  head  were  the  banished 
Peruvian  president  Don  Augustin  Gamarra,  and  the  Chilian 


18  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


general  Bulnes.  The  growing  power  of  Santa  Cruz,  who.  set 
himself  up  as  protector  of  a  confederation  between  Bolivia  and 
Peru,  had  given  alarm  to  the  Chilian  government.  It  was  appre- 
hended, and  not  without  reason,  that  the  independence  of  Chile 
might  be  threatened  by  so  dangerous  a  neighbor.  Santa  Cruz 
had  given  umbrage  to  Chile  by  several  decrees,  especially  one, 
by  which  merchant  vessels  coming  direct  from  Europe  into  a 
Bolivian  or  Peruvian  port,  and  there  disposing  of  their  cargoes, 
were  subject  to  very  low  duties,  whilst  heavy  imposts  were  levied 
on  ships  landing  any  part  of  their  cargoes  in  a  Chilian  port. 
This  law  greatly  increased  the  trade  of  Peru ;  but  it  was  preju- 
dicial to  Chile.  This  and  other  grounds  of  offence,  joined  to  the 
representations  of  the  fugitive  Ex-president  Gamarra  and  his  ad- 
herents, determined  the  Chilian  government  to  declare  war.  An 
expedition  under  the  command  of  General  Blanco  was  sent  to 
Peru  ;  but  Santa  Cruz  was  prepared  to  receive  the  invaders, 
and  in  the  valley  of  Arequipa  he  surrounded  the  Chilian  forces 
so  completely  that  they  were  obliged  to  surrender  without  strik- 
ing a  blow.  Santa  Cruz  magnanimously  allowed  General 
Blanco  to  make  a  very  favorable  capitulation.  The  soldiers 
were  sent  home  to  their  country ;  but  the  horses  were  detained 
and  sold  by  the  conquerors  to  the  conquered. 

The  generosity  of  Don  Andres  Santa  Cruz  did  not  meet  its 
due  return  on  the  part  of  the  Chilian  government.  The  treaty 
of  peace  concluded  by  Blanco  was  not  ratified  in  Santiago,  the 
minister  declaring  that  the  general  was  not  authorized  to  nego- 
tiate it.  Hostilities  were  kept  up  between  the  two  states,  and  at 
length  a  second  and  more  important  expedition  was  fitted  out. 
It  sailed  whilst  we  were  lying  in  the  harbor. 

No  sooner  had  we  cast  anchor  than  several  officers  of  the 
Chilian  army  came  on  board  to  inquire  whether  we  had  any 
swords  to  dispose  of,  assuring  us  that  they,  together  with  the 
majority  of  their  comrades,  were  yet  unprovided  with  arms,  and 
knew  not  where  to  procure  them.  The  captain  informed  them 
that  there  were  no  swords  in  our  cargo  ;  but  that  he  had  a  few 
sabres,  &c.,  which  he  was  very  willing  to  sell.  They  were 
immediately  produced,  and  some  were  purchased ;  among  the 
number  was  a  heavy  broad-sword,  about  five  feet  in  length, 


CHILIAN  SQUADRON  SENT  TO  PERU.  19 

which  had  once  belonged  to  a  cuirassier  in  Napoleon's  guard. 
The  Chilian  officer  who  bargained  for  it  was  a  delicate-looking 
stripling,  who,  with  both  hands,  could  scarcely  raise  the  heavy 
weapon.  He,  nevertheless,  flattered  himself  that  it  would  ena- 
ble him  to  achieve  great  deeds  in  battle  and  deal  death  among 
the  Peruvians.  Ten  months  afterwards  I  met  this  hero  on  a 
march  among  the  mountains  of  Peru.  He  had,  girded  on,  a 
light  little  sword,  like  a  tooth  pick  or  a  bodkin  compared  with 
the  formidable  weapon  he  had  discarded,  and  which  a  sturdy 
negro  was  carrying  behind  him.  I  could  not  refrain  from  asking 
the  officer  whether  the  trusty  broad-sword  had  not  done  good 
service  in  the  battle  of  Yungay ;  but  he  candidly  acknowledged 
that  he  had  not  attempted  to  use  it,  as  he  found  it  much  too  un- 
wieldy. 

The  Chilian  squadron  sent  to  Peru  consisted  of  twenty-seven 
transport  ships,  and  eight  ships  of  war.  Almost  all  were  in  a 
wretched  condition,  having  but  few  guns,  and  manned  by  very 
insufficient  crews.  The  largest  vessels  were  the  three  corvettes, 
Confederacion,  Santa  Cruz,  and  Valparaiso.  Only  one  ship,  the 
schooner  brig  Colocolo,  was  distinguished  for  solidity  and  swift 
sailing.  The  fleet  was  commanded  by  an  admiral  of  little  judg- 
ment and  experience. 

Among  the  crew  there  were  but  few  Chilenos  :  most  of  the 
men  were  Chilotes  and  French,  English  and  American  deserters. 
The  officers  commanding  the  ships  were  almost  all  Englishmen. 
The  transport  ships  were  heavily  laden,  some  carrying  troops, 
and  others  provisions.  These  provisions  consisted  of  sesino 
(dried  beef),  chalonas  (whole  sheep  dried),  maize,  potatoes,  dried 
fruits  and  barley,  together  with  hay  for  the  horses.  The  em- 
barkation of  the  horses  was  most  clumsily  managed  :  many  were 
strangled  in  being  hoisted  up  the  ships'  sides,  others  slipped 
through  their  girths  and  were  severely  hurt  by  falling,  and  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  poor  animals  died  before  the  ships  left 
the  port.  Every  morning  we  saw  dozens  of  dead  horses  thrown 
over  board.  The  continued  lurching  of  the  vessels  in  which  the 
cavalry  was  embarked,  bore  evidence  of  the  inconvenient  situa- 
tion of  the  horses  between  decks. 

At  the  beginning  of  July  the  whole  squadron  sailed  for  the 


20  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 


harbor  of  Coquimbo,  where  the  troops  were  decimated  by  the 
small-pox. 

There  prevailed  in  Chile  a  feeling  very  adverse  to  this  cam- 
paign j  so  much  so  that  most  of  the  troops  were  embarked  by 
force.  I  was  standing  on  the  muele  when  the  Santiago  battalion 
was  shipped.  The  soldiers,  who  were  in  wretched  uniforms, 
most  of  them  wearing  ponchos,  and  unarmed,  were  bound  to- 
gether two-and-two  by  ropes,  and  absolutely  driven  into  the 
boats. 

This  war  proved  most  unfortunate  to  Peru,  a  result  which, 
however,  cannot  certainly  be  ascribed  either  to  the  courage  of 
the  enemy's  troops  or  the  judgment  of  their  commanders.  We 
shall  presently  see  the  circumstances  which  combined  to  secure 
triumph  to  the  Chilenos. 

I  and  my  fellow-voyagers  were  also  sufferers  by  the  war,  our 
captain  having  imprudently  announced  his  intention  of  selling  the 
Edmond  to  the  protector  Santa  Cruz,  as  she  might  easily  have 
been  transformed  into  an  excellent  corvette.  She  was  a  quick 
sailer,  tight-built,  carrying  ten  guns  of  moderate  calibre,  and  she 
might  easily  have  mounted  ten  more. 

The  captain's  intention  having  reached  the  knowledge  of  the 
Chilian  government,  the  natural  consequence  was,  that  the  port 
was  closed,  a  measure  deemed  the  more  necessary  inasmuch  as 
an  American  captain  was  suspected  of  entertaining  the  design  of 
selling  his  ship  to  the  Peruvians.  It  was  not  until  the  fleet  had 
had  time  to  reach  Peru,  and  the  first  blow  was  supposed  to  be 
struck,  that  the  embargo  was  raised,  and  we  obtained  leave  to 
depart.  We  lay  in  the  port  of  Valparaiso  five-and-forty  days. 
To  me  the  most  annoying  circumstance  attending  this  delay  was, 
that  I  could  not  absent  myself  from  the  port  longer  than  twenty- 
four  hours  at  a  time,  as  the  ship  was  constantly  in  readiness  to 
get  under  weigh,  as  soon  as  we  should  receive  permission  to 
sail,  which  was  hourly  expected.  My  excursions  were,  there- 
fore, confined  to  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  town ;  and 
even  there  my  walks  and  rides  were  much  impeded  by  constant 
stormy  and  rainy  weather. 

On  the  29th  of  July,  preparations  were  made  on  board  our  ship 
for  celebrating  the  Paris  revolution  of  1830.  At  eight  o'clock 


POLICE  OF  VALPARAISO.  21 

in  the  morning  we  fired  three  guns,  and  the  Edmond  was  soon 
decorated  from  her  deck  to  her  mast-heads  with  flags  and  stream- 
ers. At  the  fore-mast  gaily  floated  the  Swiss  flag,  probably  the 
first  time  it  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  Pacific.  When  the  guns 
on  board  the  French  ship-of-war  had  ceased  firing,  we  began 
our  salute  ;  but,  as  we  had  only  ten  guns,  it  was  necessary  to 
load  a  second  time.  Our  seamen,  being  unused  to  this  kind  of 
duty,  did  not  observe  due  precaution,  and  the  consequence  was 
that  one  of  them  had  his  hand  so  dreadfully  shattered  that  im- 
mediate amputation  was  indispensable.  The  day's  rejoicing  was 
thus  suddenly  brought  to  a  melancholy  close. 

The  mole  in  front  of  the  custom-house  is  exceedingly  danger- 
ous ;  so  much  so,  that,  during  the  prevalence  of  stormy  north 
winds,  it  is  impossible  to  pass  along  it.  From  the  shore  a  sort 
of  wooden  jetty  stretches  into  the  sea,  at  the  distance  of  about 
sixty  paces.  This  jetty  has  been  sometimes  partially,  and  at 
other  times  completely,  destroyed  by  the  waves.  The  harbor- 
master's boats,  and  those  belonging  to  the  ships-of-war,  land  on 
the  right  side  ;  the  left  side  is  allotted  to  the  boats  of  the  mer- 
chant ships.  On  the  shore  there  are  always  a  number  of  boats 
ready  to  convey  persons  who  wish  to  go  on  board  the  different 
ships.  Each  boat  is  generally  rowed  by  two  Indians.  When- 
ever any  person  approaches  the  shore  he  is  beset  by  the  boatmen, 
who  throng  round  him,  and  alternately,  in  English  and  Spanish, 
importune  him  with  the  questions, — "  Want  a  boat  ?"  "  Vamos 
a  bordo  ?" 

Day  and  night,  parties  of  custom-house  officers  go  round  the 
port  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  smuggling.  In  this,  however, 
they  only  partially  succeed  ;  for  they  detect  only  petty  smug- 
glers, whilst  those  who  carry  on  contraband  trade  on  a  large 
scale  elude  their  vigilance.  The  captains  of  French  vessels  are 
notorious  for  this  kind  of  traffic,  and  they  frequently  succeed  in 
landing  vast  quantities  of  goods  surreptitiously. 

The  police  of  Valparaiso  is  probably  as  good  as  it  is  in  any 
part  of  South  America.  Serenos  (watchmen)  perambulate  the 
streets  on  foot  and  on  horseback,  and  continually  give  signals  one 
to  another  by  blowing  small  whistles.  For  personal  safety  there 
is  little  risk,  probably  not  more  than  in  the  most  populous  cities 


22  TRAVELS    IN  PERU. 


of  Europe.  It  is  true  that  nocturnal  murders  sometimes  take 
place  ;  but  the  police  speedily  succeed  in  capturing  the  crimi- 
nals, who,  after  a  summary  trial,  are  shot. 

In  Valparaiso,  as  in  most  of  the  towns  on  the  western  coast  of 
South  America,  the  serenos  go  about  all  night,  calling  the  hours 
and  announcing  the  state  of  the  weather.  At  ten  o'clock  they 
commence  with  their — "  Viva  Chile  /" — "  Ave  Maria  purissi- 
ma  /" — Las  diez  han  dado  y  sereno  /"  (past  ten  o'clock  and  a  fine 
night !)  or  nublado  (cloudy), — or  lloviendo  (raining).  Thus,  they 
continue  calling  every  half-hour  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Should  an  earthquake  take  place  it  is  announced  by  the  sereno 
when  he  goes  his  round  in  the  following  half  hour.  However, 
the  phenomenon  usually  announces  itself  in  so  positive  a  way, 
that  the  inhabitants  may  easily  dispense  with  the  information  of 
the  serenos. 

Among  the  most  remarkable  objects  in  Valparaiso  may  be  num- 
bered the  moveable  prison.  It  consists  of  a  number  of  large 
covered  wagons,  not  unlike  those  used  for  the  conveyance  of  wild 
beasts.  In  the  inside  of  each  wagon,  planks  are  fixed  up  like 
the  board  bedsteads  in  a  guard-house,  affording  resting-places  for 
eight  or  ten  prisoners.  A  guard  is  stationed  at  the  door,  which 
is  at  the  back  of  the  wagon ;  and  in  the  front  a  sort  of  kitchen 
is  constructed.  These  wagons  are  drawn  by  the  prisoners 
themselves,  who  are  for  the  most  part  destined  to  work  in  the 
streets  and  roads,  and,  accordingly,  they  take  their  prison  with 
them  when  they  are  ordered  to  any  considerable  distance  from 
the  town.  To  a  country  in  which  there  may  be  said  to  be  no 
winter,  this  sort  of  nomad  prison  is  exceedingly  well-suited,  and 
the  prisoners  may  be  conveyed  from  place  to  place  at  very  little 
expense. 

I  went  into  some  of  these  moveable  prisons,  and  I  must  confess 
that  I  never  beheld  such  an  assemblage  of  ill-looking  faces  as 
were  collected  within  them.  In  the  countenances  of  some  of  the 
prisoners  unbridled  passion  and  degrading  sensuality  were  so 
plainly  and  so  odiously  portrayed,  that  one  shuddered  to  reflect 
that  such  features  could  be  an  index  of  the  human  mind.  Most 
of  them  were  Creole  Indians ;  but  there  were  a  few  Europeans 
among  them.  To  me  it  was  melancholy  to  behold  the  European, 


BUILDINGS  IN  VALPARAISO.  23 

who  might  be  supposed  to  possess  some  little  share  of  education, 
mounting  the  prison  steps  chained  to  his  fellow-criminal,  the  un- 
civilized Chileno. 

In  Valparaiso,  as  in  all  seaports,  there  is  a  heterogeneous  mix- 
ture of  different  countries,  nations,  languages,  and  manners, 
amidst  which  the  national  character  of  the  country  is  entirely 
lost.  The  trade  in  European  goods  is  very  extensive,  but  almost 
exclusively  in  the  hands  of  a  few  great  North  American  and  Eng- 
lish houses,  who  supply  the  whole  country  with  the  articles  they 
import.  At  times,  such  is  the  overstock  of  importations,  that 
goods  are  sold  at  lower  prices  in  Valparaiso  than  in  Europe. 
The  warehouses  are  so  filled  with  some  sorts  of  merchandise, 
that  without  any  fresh  supplies  there  would  be  sufficient  for  some 
years  ta  come. 

Among  the  clerks  in  the  mercantile  houses  I  met  with  a  great 
number  of  Germans,  who  all  maintain  an  intimate  association 
with  each  other.  They  have  formed  themselves  into  a  union, 
and  they  have  a  very  commodious  place  in  which  they  hold  their 
meetings.  Following  their  example,  the  English  have  united 
together  and  established  several  clubs.  The  French  have  not 
gained  any  considerable  footing  in  this  part  of  South  America, 
in  which  there  are  scarcely  two  French  mercantile  houses  of 
any  consequence.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  abundance  of 
French  hairdressers,  tailors,  shoemakers,  jewellers,  confection- 
ers, and  Chevaliers  d 'Industrie.  Neither  is  there  any  want  of 
Modistes  Parisiennes  et  Bordelaises. 

Valparaiso  is  yearly  increasing  in  extent  and  in  the  numbers 
of  its  inhabitants  ;  but  the  town  makes  little  improvement  in 
beauty.  That  quarter  which  is  built  along  the  Quebradas  is  cer- 
tainly susceptible  of  no  improvement,  owing  to  the  unfavorable 
locality,  and  it  is  only  the  newly-built  houses  on  the  heights  that 
impart  to  the  town  anything  like  a  pleasing  aspect.  In  laying 
out  buildings  in  a  place  like  Valparaiso,  the  aid  of  art  should 
make  amends  for  the  defects  of  nature.  My  visits  to  Valparaiso 
did  not  produce  a  very  favorable  impression  on  me.  The  ex- 
clusively mercantile  occupations  of  the  inhabitants,  together  with 
the  poverty  of  the  adjacent  country,  leave  little  to  interest  the 
attention  of  a  mere  transient  visitor.  The  case  may  be  differ- 


24  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 


ent  with  persons  who,  having  longer  time  than  I  had  to  stay  in 
the  town,  may  enjoy  opportunities  of  entering  into  society,  and 
occasionally  visiting  the  pleasant  valley  of  Quillota  and  the  in- 
teresting capital  Santiago. 

The  latter  is  thirty  leagues  distant  from  the  port ;  but  a  very 
active  communication  is  kept  up  between  the  two  places,  and 
better  roads  would,  no  doubt,  increase  the  intercourse.  A  few 
years  ago  the  roads  were  very  unsafe  ;  but  now  the  journey 
may  be  performed  without  danger  if  the  Birlocheros  (coach- 
drivers)  are  in  the  least  degree  careful. 

The  zoology  of  the  neighborhood  of  Valparaiso  is  not  very  in- 
teresting, though  more  so  along  the  sea-shore  than  in  parts 
further  inland.  Among  the  Mammalia  are  sometimes  seen  the 
fox  [Cants  Azara,  Wild.),  and  the  pole-cat.  In  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  town  a  very  large  mouse  is  seen  in  the  burrows 
of  the  ground  ;  it  is  of  the  eight-toothed  species  (Octodon  Cum- 
mingii,  Benn.),  and  has  a  brush-formed  tail.  As  the  fields  round 
Valparaiso  are  not  cultivated  these  animals  do  no  harm,  other- 
wise they  would  be  the  plague  of  agriculture,  and  probably  are 
so  in  the  interior  parts  of  the  country.  Now  and  then  a  sea-dog 
may  be  observed  in  the  bay  ;  but  the  whale  is  seldom  seen,  and 
whenever  one  appears  he  is  immediately  killed,  as  there  is 
always  a  whaler  at  anchor  and  not  far  off. 

In  the  market,  live  condors  are  frequently  sold.  These  birds 
are  caught  in  traps.  A  very  fine  one  may  be  purchased  for  a 
dollar  and  a  half.  I  saw  eight  of  these  gigantic  birds  secured  in 
a  yard  in  a  very  singular  manner.  A  long  narrow  strap  of 
leather  was  passed  through  the  nostrils  of  the  bird  and  firmly 
knotted  at  one  end,  whilst  the  other  end  was  fastened  to  a 
wooden  or  iron  peg  fixed  in  the  ground.  By  this  means  the 
motion  of  the  bird  was  not  impeded  :  it  could  walk  within  the 
range  of  a  tolerably  wide  circle ;  but  on  attempting  to  fly  it  fell 
to  the  ground  head  foremost.  It  is  no  trifling  matter  to  provide 
food  for  eight  condors  ;  for  they  are  among  the  most  ravenous 
of  birds  of  prey.  The  owner  of  those  I  saw  assured  me  that,  by 
way  of  experiment,  he  had  given  a  condor,  in  the  course  of  one 
day,  eighteen  pounds  of  meat  (consisting  of  the  entrails  of  oxen)  ; 
that  the  bird  devoured  the  whole,  and  ate  his  allowance  on  the 


DEPARTURE  FROM  VALPARAISO.  25 


following  day  with  as  good  an  appetite  as  usual.  I  measured  a 
very  large  male  condor,  and  the  width  from  the  tip  of  one  wing 
to  the  tip  of  the  other  was  fourteen  English  feet  and  two  inches 
— an  enormous  expanse  of  wing,  not  equalled  by  any  other  bird 
except  the  white  albatross  (Diomedea  exulans,  Linn.).  The 
snipes  ( Scolopax  frenata,  III.)  found  on  the  little  plain  between 
the  bay  and  the  light-house  are  in  color  precisely  like  those  of 
Europe,  from  which,  however,  they  differ  in  having  two  more 
feathers  in  their  tails,  Small  green  parrots,  little  bigger  than 
finches,  are  tamed  and  brought  to  Valparaiso  from  the  interior 
of  the  country.  These  parrots  are  very  docile,  and  are  easily 
taught  to  speak  ;  but  they  cannot  endure  cold,  and  require  to  be 
tended  with  very  great  care.  In  the  bay  itself  there  are  nume- 
rous cormorants,  and  occasionally  penguins  and  large  flights  of 
the  cut-water  or  shear-bill  (Rhynchops  nigra,  Linn.).  The  lat- 
ter is  distinguished  by  a  sharp-pointed  bill  closing  laterally,  the 
under  mandible  being  about  double  the  length  of  the  upper  one. 
But  the  most  beautiful  bird  in  the  bay  of  Valparaiso  is  the  ma- 
jestic swan  (Cygnus  nigricollis,  Mol.),  whose  body  is  of  dazzling 
white,  whilst  the  head  and  neck  are  black. 

On  the  13th  of  August  we  at  length  obtained  leave  to  sail. 
Early  on  the  morning  of  the  X4th  we  weighed  anchor  ;  and,  as 
we  sailed  out  of  the  Bay  of  Valparaiso,  the  summit  of  Aconcagua 
Boon  disappeared  in  the  blue  horizon. 


28  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Juan  Fernandez — Robinson  Crusoe — Passage  to  Callao — San  Lorenzo — 
Rise  and  fall  of  the  coast — Mr.  Darwin's  opinions  on  this  subject — 
Callao — The  Fortress — Siege  by  the  Spaniards — General  Rodil — Siege 
by  the  Chilians — The  Colocolo — Pirates — Zoology— Road  to  Lima. 

WITH  a  favorable  east  wind  we  reached,  in  thirty-six  hours,  the 
island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  which  lies  in  the  latitude  of  Valpa- 
raiso^ Ships  from  Europe,  bound  to  Peru,  which  do  not  go  into 
Chile,  usually  touch  at  Juan  Fernandez  to  test  their  chronome- 
ters. It  consists  in  fact  of  three  islands,  forming  a  small  com- 
pact group.  Two  of  them,  in  accordance  with  the  Spanish 
names,  may  be  called  the  Inward  Island  and  the  Outward  Island, 
for  the  most  easterly  is  called  Mas  a  Tierra  (more  to  the  main 
land),  that  to  the  west  is  called  Mas  a  Fuera  (more  towards  the 
offing).  That  to  the  south,  which  is  almost  a  naked  rock,  is  the 
Isla  de  Lobos,  which  we  may  call  Sea-dog  Island.  The  two 
first  are  covered  with  grass  and  trees.  Mas  a  Tierra  is  much 
longer,  and  better  suited  for  cultivation  than  Mas  a  Fuera.  In 
form  the  two  islands  have  a  striking  resemblance  to  Flores  and 
Cordua,  islands  of  the  group  of  the  Azores.  Until  within  these 
twenty  years,  Mas  a  Tierra  was  the  place  of  exportation  for 
convicts  from  Chile ;  but  as  it  was  found  that  the  facility  of 
escape  is  great,  none  are  now  sent  there.  In  1812  a  number  of 
prisoners  of  war  were  confined  there,  but  the  rats,  which  had 
increased  in  an  extraordinary  degree,  consumed  all  the  provi- 
sions sent  from  Chile.  .Several  fruitless  attempts  have  been 
made  to  populate  the  island,  but  that  object  is  now  given  up,  and 
it  is  only  occasionally  visited  by  sea-dog  hunters.  Ulloa  speaks 
of  the  great  number  of  sea-calves  or  dogs  with  which  the  island 
was  frequented,  and  distinguishes  kinds  which  belong  to  the 
short-eared  species.  Their  skins  are  excellent,  and  they  sell  at 
a  good  price  in  England.  Wild  goats  are  numerous,  and  their 


LANDING  AT  CALLAO.  27 

propagation  would  be  excessive  were  it  not  for  the  multitude  of 
dogs,  also  wild,  by  which  they  are  destroyed. 

There  is  yet  another  kind  of  interest  attached  to  Juan  Fer- 
nandez. It  was  on  Mas  a  Tierra  that,  in  1704,  the  celebrated 
English  navigator,  Dampier,  landed  his  coxswain,  Alexander 
Selkirk,  with  whom  he  had  quarrelled,  and  left  him  there  with  a 
small  quantity  of  provisions,  and  a  few  tools.  Selkirk  had  lived 
four  years  and  four  months  on  this  uninhabited  island,  when  he 
was  found  there  by  the  bucaneers  Woods  and  Rogers,  and 
brought  back  to  Europe.  From  the  notes  which  he  made  during 
his  solitary  residence,  the  celebrated  Daniel  Defoe  composed  his 
incomparable  work,  ROBINSON  CRUSOE. 

The  weather  continued  favorable,  and  in  about  a  week  we 
doubled  the  west  point  of  San  Lorenzo  Island,  where  some 
Chilian  cruizers  were  watching  the  coast.  We  soon  entered  the 
fine  bay  of  Callao,  and  cast  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  the  Ciudad 
de  los  Reyes.  While  rounding  the  island,  an  American  corvette 
spoke  us.  She  had  left  Valparaiso  on  the  same  day  with  us,  and 
sailed  also  through  the  strait  between  San  Lorenzo  and  the 
main  land  ;  yet,  during  the  whole  passage,  we  never  saw  each 
other. 

No  signals  were  exchanged  between  us  and  the  shore,  and  no 
port-captain  came  on  board.  We  were  exceedingly  anxious  to 
know  the  issue  of  the  Chilian  expedition.  Hostile  ships  of  war 
lay  off  the  port,  but  the  Peruvian  flag  waved  on  the  fort.  At 
last  a  French  naval  cadet  came  on  board,  and  informed  us  that 
the  Chilians  had  landed  successfully,  and  had  taken  Lima  by 
storm  two  days  previously.  They  were,  at  that  moment,  be- 
sieging the  fortress.  We  immediately  went  on  shore. 

The  town  presented  a  melancholy  aspect.  The  houses  and 
streets  were  deserted.  In  all  Callao  we  scarcely  met  a  dozen 
persons,  and  the  most  of  those  we  saw  were  negroes.  Some  of 
the  inhabitants  came  gradually  back,  but  in  the  course  of  a  month 
scarcely  a  hundred  had  leturned,  and  for  safety  they  slept 
during  the  night  on  board  merchant  ships  in  the  bay.  At  the 
village  of  Bella  Vista,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  Callao,  the 
Chilians  had  erected  their  batteries  for  bombarding  the  fortress. 
As  it  was  difficult  to  obtain  provisions,  the  commanders  of  the 


28  TRAVELS  IN   PERU. 

foreign  ships  of  war  sent  every  morning  a  small  detachment  of 
sailors  with  a  steward  to  Bella  Vista,  to  purchase  meat  and  vege- 
tables. The  merchant-ships  joined  in  the  practice,  so  that  early 
every  morning  a  long  procession  of  boats  with  flags  flying  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Chilian  camp.  But  a  stop  was  soon  put  to  this,  as 
an  English  butcher  in  Callao  found  means  to  go  with  the  boats  for 
the  purpose  of  purchasing  large  quantities  of  meat,  which  he  af- 
terwards sold  at  an  immense  profit,  to  the  fortress.  Though  the 
besieged  did  not  suffer  from  want,  they  were  far  from  having 
superfluity. 

Having  sufficient  time  to  make  myself  acquainted  with  the 
country  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Callao,  I  took  advantage  of 
every  opportunity  for  excursions  j  going  from  place  to  place  by 
water,  which  was  more  safe  than  journeying  by  land. 

The  bay  of  Callao  is  one  of  the  largest  and  calmest  on  the 
west  coast  of  South  America.  On  the  south-west,  it  is  bounded 
by  the  sterile  island  of  San  Lorenzo  ;  on  the  north  it  flows  into 
the  creeks,  which  are  terminated  by  the  Punta  Gorda,  the  Punta 
Pernal,  the  Punta  de  dos  Playas,  and  the  Punta  de  Dona  Pancha. 
The  beach  is  flat,  for  the  most  part  shingly,  and  about  the  mouth 
of  the  Rimac,  somewhat  marshy.  Between  the  mouth  of  the 
Rimac  and  that  of  the  Rio  de  Chillon,  which  is  a  little  southward 
of  the  Punta  Gorda,  there  is  a  tract  of  rich  marshy  soil.  A 
small  boot-shaped  tongue  of  land  stretches  from  the  fortress  west- 
ward to  San  Lorenzo.  On  this  spot  are  the  ruins  of  old  Callao. 

San  Lorenzo  is  a  small,  long-shaped  island,  about  15  English 
miles  in  circumference.  It  is  intersected  throughout  its  whole 
length  by  a  ridge  of  sharp  crested  hills,  of  which  the  highest 
point  is  about  1387  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  On  the 
north-eastern  side,  the  declivity  is  less  steep  than  on  the  south- 
west, where  it  descends  almost  perpendicularly  into  the  sea. 
Seals  and  sea-otters  inhabit  the  steep  rocks  of  the  southern  de- 
clivity, and  swarms  of  sea-birds  nestle  on  the  desolate  shore. 
San  Lorenzo  is  separated  on  the  southern  side  by  a  narrow  strait, 
from  a  small  rocky  island  called  El  Fronton,  which  is  also  the 
abode  of  numerous  seals. 

The  coasts  of  Callao  and  San  Lorenzo  have  undergone  very 
remarkable  changes  within  a  few  centuries.  Mr.  Darwin,  the 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  THE  COAST.  29 

English  geologist,  is  of  opinion  that  this  part  of  Peru  has  risen 
eighty-five  feet  since  it  has  had  human  inhabitants.  On  the 
north-eastern  declivity  of  San  Lorenzo,  which  is  divided  into 
three  indistinctly  marked  terraces,  there  are  numbers  of  shells 
of  those  same  species  of  conchylise  which  are  at  the  present  time 
found  living  on  the  coast.  On  an  accurate  examination  of  these 
shells,  Mr.  Darwin  found  many  of  them  deeply  corroded.  "  They 
have,"  he  says,  "  a  much  older  and  more  decayed  appearance 
than  those  at  the  height  of  500  or  600  feet  on  the  coast  of  Chile. 
These  shells  are  associated  with  much  common  salt,  a  little  sul- 
phate of  lime  (both  probably  left  by  the  evaporation  of  the  spray, 
as  the  land  slowly  rose),  together  with  sulphate  of  soda,  and 
muriate  of  lime.  The  rest  are  fragments  of  the  underlying 
sand-stone,  and  are  covered  by  a  few  inches  thick  of  detritus. 
The  shells  higher  up  on  this  terrace  could  be  traced  scaling  off 
in  flakes,  and  falling  into  an  impalpable  powder ;  and  on  an  upper 
terrace,  at  the  height  of  170  feet,  and  likewise  at  some  consider- 
ably higher  points,  I  found  a  layer  of  saline  powder,  of  exactly 
similar  appearance,  and  lying  in  the  same  relative  position.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  upper  layer  originally  existed  on  a  bed  of 
shells,  like  that  on  the  eighty-five  feet  ledge,  but  it  does  not  now 
contain  even  a  trace  of  organic  structure."*  Mr.  Darwin  adds, 
that  on  the  terrace,  which  is  eighty-five  feet  above  the  sea,  he 
found  embedded  amidst  the  shells  and  much  sea-drifted  rubbish, 
some  bits  of  cotton  thread,  plaited  rush,  and  the  head  of  a  stalk 
of  Indian  corn. 

San  Lorenzo  does  not  appear  to  have  been  inhabited  in  very 
early  ages.  The  fragments  of  human  industry  which  have  been 
found  mixed  in  the  shells  have  probably  been  brought  thither  by 
fishermen  who  visit  the  island,  and  often  pass  the  night  on  it. 

Darwin  further  remarks  : — "  It  has  been  stated  that  the  land 
subsided  during  this  memorable  shock  (in  1746)  :  I  could  not  dis- 
cover any  proof  of  this ;  yet  it  seems  far  from  improbable,  for 
the  form  of  the  coast  must  certainly  have  undergone  some  change 
since  the  foundation  of  the  old  town,"  dec. — "  On  the  island  of 
San  Lorenzo  there  are  very  satisfactory  proofs  of  elevation, 

*  Natural  History  and  Geology  of  the  countries  visited  by  the  Beagle. 


30  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

within  a  recent  period ;  this,  of  course,  is  not  opposed  to  the 
belief  of  a  small  sinking  of  the  ground  having  subsequently 
taken  place." 

But  satisfactory  evidence  of  the  sinking  of  the  coast  is  not  to 
be  obtained  in  a  visit  of  a  few  weeks'  duration  ;  nor  must  that 
evidence  rest  solely  on  geological  facts,  though  doubtless  they 
furnish  much  important  data.  History  must  aid  the  inquiry. 
Tradition  and  the  recollections  of  old  persons  must  be  attended 
to.  According  to  these  authorities,  a  change  more  or  less  consi- 
derable has  taken  place  in  the  level  of  the  coast,  after  every 
great  earthquake.  If  we  refer  to  the  account  given  by  Ulloa, 
and  compare  the  plan  of  the  harbor  of  Callao,  drawn  by  him  in 
1742,  with  the  most  correct  modern  charts,  we  do  not  find  much 
difference  in  the  representations  of  the  distance  between  the 
main-land  and  San  Lorenzo.  Four  years  afterwards  the  great 
earthquake  occurred,  which  destroyed  the  city  of  Callao,  and 
plunged  it  into  the  sea.  Subsequently  there  was  a  rising  of  the 
coast,  which  could  not  be  inconsiderable,  for  according  to  the 
statements  of  old  inhabitants  of  Callao,  the  distance  from  the 
coast  to  San  Lorenzo  was  so  inconsiderable  that  boys  used  to 
throw  stones  over  to  the  island.  At  present  the  distance  is  nearly 
two  English  miles.  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  general  correctness 
of  those  statements,  for  a  careful  investigation  of  facts  leads  to 
the  same  conclusion  ;  so  that  within  the  last  sixty  or  seventy 
years  the  sinking  must  have  been  considerable.  It  must  be  ob- 
served, however,  that  the  ruins  on  the  small  tongue  of  land  are 
not,  as  Darwin  supposes,  the  remains  of  the  city  of  Callao,  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  sea  in  1746,  but  of  the  Callao  which  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  great  earthquake  of  1630. 

Another  proof  of  the  sinking  exists  in  the  extensive  shallow 
between  the  coast  of  the  main-land  and  San  Lorenzo,  called  the 
Camotal.  In  early  times  this  shallow  was  dry  land,  producing 
vegetables,  in  particular  Camotes  (sweet  potatoes),  whence  the 
name  of  this  portion  of  the  strait  is  derived.  The  inundation 
took  place  in  the  time  of  the  Spaniards,  but  before  1746,  either 
in  the  great  earthquake  of  1687,  or  in  that  of  1630. 

Northward  of  the  Bay  of  Callao,  near  the  plantation  of  Boca 
Negra,  there  is  a  shallow,  where,  according  to  records,  there  ex- 


SAN  LORENZO  AND  THE  CAMOTAL.  31 

isted  a  sugar  plantation  about  fifty  years  ago.  Turning  to  the 
south  of  Callao,  in  the  direction  of  Lurin,  we  find,  at  the  distance 
of  about  two  English  miles  from  the  coast,  two  islands  or  rocks, 
of  which  one  is  called  Pachacamac,  and  the  other  Santa  Domin- 
go. At  the  time  of  the  Spanish  invasion  these  rocks  were  con- 
nected with  the  main-land,  and  formed  a  promontory.  On  one 
of  them  stood  a  temple  or  castle.  At  what  period  they  were 
detached  from  the  coast  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain  authen- 
tically ;  but  there  appears  reason  to  suppose  that  the  separation 
took  place  during  the  violent  earthquake  of  1586.  Attentive 
investigations  to  the  north  of  Callao — at  Chancay,  Huacho,  Ba- 
ranca,  &c.,  would  probably  bring  to  light  further  evidence  on  this 
subject. 

Between  the  facts  stated  by  Mr.  Darwin  and  those  here  ad- 
duced, there  is  considerable  discrepancy.  On  the  one  hand  they 
denote  a  rising,  and  on  the  other  a  sinking.  But  it  may  be  asked, 
might  not  both  these  phenomena  have  occurred  at  different  times  ?* 
Mr.  Darwin's  opinion  respecting  the  still-continued  rising  of  the 
coast  does  not  appear  to  me  to  rest  on  satisfactory  evidence. 
The  relics  of  human  industry  which  he  found  embedded  among 
shells,  at  the  height  of  eighty-five  feet  above  the  sea,  only  prove 
that  the  elevation  has  taken  place  after  the  land  was  inhabited 
by  the  human  race,  but  do  not  mark  the  period  at  which  that 
elevation  occurred.  Pieces  of  cotton  thread  and  plaited  rush  are 
no  proofs  of  a  very  refined  degree  of  civilisation,  such  as  the 
Spaniards  brought  with  them  to  Peru,  and  cannot  therefore  be 
taken  as  evidence  that  the  elevation  took  place  at  any  period 
subsequent  to  the  conquest.  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  traces  the 
dynasty  of  the  Incas  down  to  the  year  1021,  a  period  when  the 
inhabitants  of  the  coast  of  Peru  were  tolerably  well  advanced 
in  civilisation.  Fernando  Montesinos  furnishes  facts  connected 
with  the  history  of  Peru,  of  several  thousand  years'  earlier  date  ; 
and,  judging  from  the  number  of  dynasties,  the  nature  of  the 
laws,  &c.,  it  may  be  inferred  that  civilisation  existed  at  a  period 

*  Mr.  Darwin,  in  the  work  just  quoted,  says  in  reference  to  this  subject, 
"  Since  our  voyage,  Dr.  Tschudi  has  come  to  the  conclusion,  by  the  com- 
parison of  old  and  modern  maps,  that  the  earth  both  north  and  south  of 
Lima  has  certainly  subsided." — T. 


32  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


of  even  more  remote  antiquity.  It  cannot  therefore  be  deter- 
mined with  any  accuracy  at  what  time  the  deposit  at  San  Lo- 
renzo, now  eighty-five  feet  high,  was  level  with  the  sea,  or 
whether  the  rise  suddenly  followed  one  of  those  frightful  cata- 
strophes which  have  so  often  visited  the  western  coast  of  South 
America.  Then,  again,  the  different  degrees  of  decay  presented 
by  the  beds  of  shells  seem  to  indicate  that  the  rising  has  been 
gradual ;  and  it  may  have  been  going  on  for  thousands  of  years. 
Had  the  coast  risen  eighty-five  feet  since  the  Spanish  conquest — 
that  is  to  say,  within  the  space  of  three  hundred  and  sixty -two 
years — the  Camotal  would  long  since  have  again  risen  above  the 
surface  of  the  sea ;  for  it  is  very  improbable  that  it  sank  to  a 
depth  exceeding  ninety  or  ninety-five  feet.  It  is  evident  that 
risings  and  sinkings  have  occurred  at  various  timeSj  and  that 
causes  contingent  on  earthquakes  have  produced  the  variations 
in  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  coast. 

It  is  probable  that  the  accurate  sounding  of  the  depth  of  water 
in  the  Camotal,  at  stated  intervals,  would  furnish  the  best  means 
of  ascertaining  the  rising  and  sinking  of  the  coast.  A  variety 
of  circumstances  combine  to  favor  the  practicability  of  calculation 
by  this  method.  For  example,  no  river  flows  into  that  part  of 
the  bay  in  which  the  Camotal  is  situated.  The  Rimac,  whose 
mouth  lies  further  to  the  north,  is  not  sufficiently  large  to  carry 
any  considerable  deposit  into  the  bed  of  the  bay  :  moreover,  there 
is  but  little  tide,  and  the  bay  is  always  calm,  being  sheltered  on 
the  south  by  the  island  of  San  Lorenzo,  and  north  breezes  are 
rare  and  never  violent. 

I  may  here  mention  a  singular  phenomenon  which  has  in  latter 
times  often  occurred  at  Callao,  and  which,  in  1841, 1  had  myself 
the  opportunity  of  observing.  About  two  in  the  morning  the 
sea  flowed  from  the  shore  with  greater  force  than  in  the  strongest 
ebb  ;  the  ships  farthest  out  were  left  dry,  which  is  never  the  case 
in  an  ebb  tide.  The  alarm  of  the  inhabitants  was  great  when 
the  sea  rushed  instantly  back  with  increased  force.  Nothing 
could  withstand  its  fury.  Meanwhile  there  was  no  commotion 
of  the  earth,  nor  any  marked  change  of  temperature. 

In  the  earthquake  of  1746  Callao  was  completely  overwhelmed 
by  the  sea.  Several  travellers  have  related  that  on  calm  days 


TOWN  AND  FORTRESS  OF  CALLAO.         33 

with  a  clear  sky  the  old  town  may  be  seen  beneath  the  waves. 
I  have  also  heard  the  same  story  from  inhabitants  of  Callao.  It 
is  doubtless  a  mere  fable.  Under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances I  have  often  examined  the  spot — the  Mar  brava,  as  it  is 
called — without  being  able  to  discover  a  trace  of  the  ruins  of  old 
Callao. 

The  existing  town  of  Callao  is  small,  and  by  no  means  pleas- 
ant. In  winter  it  is  damp  and  dirty,  and  in  summer  so  dusty 
that  in  passing  through  the  streets  one  is  almost  choked.  Most 
of  the  houses  are  very  slightly  built,  and  they  are  usually  only 
one  story  high.  The  walls  are  constructed  of  reeds,  plastered 
over  with  loam  or  red  clay.  All  the  roofs  are  flat,  being  made 
of  straw  mats  laid  on  a  frame-work  of  reeds,  which  is  also 
plastered  with  loam  on  the  under  side.  The  windows  are  in  the 
roof,  and  consist  of  wooden  trap-doors,  which  look  very  much 
like  bird-cages.  They  have  no  glass  panes,  but  gratings  made 
of  wooden  spars.  On  the  inside  there  is  a  window-shutter,  and 
a  string  hangs  down  into  the  apartment,  by  means  of  which  the 
shutter  can  be  opened  or  closed. 

The  most  interesting  object  seen  in  Callao  is  the  splendid 
fortress.  Though  built  on  a  flat  surface  close  to  the  sea,  it  has 
a  magnificent  appearance.  It  consists  of  two  castles,  the  largest 
of  which  the  Spaniards  named  Real  Filippe,  but  since  the  Revo- 
lution it  is  called  Castillo  de  la  Independencia.  It  has  two  round 
towers,  wide,  but  not  very  high.  The  court-yards  are  spacious. 
The  walls  are  thick,  rather  low,  and  surrounded  by  a  ditch, 
which  can  be  filled  with  water  from  the  sea.  To  the  south  of 
this  castle  there  is  a  smaller  one,  called  El  Castillo  del  Sol. 
Before  the  War  of  Independence  they  mounted  both  together 
four  hundred  pieces  of  cannon,  many  of  which  were  of  very 
large  calibre.  At  present  they  have  only  sixty  pieces  of  can- 
non and  seventy-one  carronades. 

On  the  fortress  .of  Callao  the  Spanish  flag  waved  long  after 
independence  was  declared  in  all  the  countries  of  Spanish  South 
America.  The  Spanish  general,  Rodil,  threw  himself  into  the 
castle,  and  with  wonderful  resolution  held  out  against  a  siege  of 
a  year  and  a  half.  During  the  last  three  months  the  Spaniards 

3* 


34  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


suffered  all  the  privations  and  miseries  which  a  besieged  army 
must  endure  within  the  tropics. 

Lord  Cochrane  blockaded  the  fortress  by  sea,  and  General 
Bartolome  Salom  drew  up  his  army  on  the  land  side.  More  than 
4,000  Spaniards  fled  to  the  castle  with  all  their  valuable  pro- 
perty, and  took  refuge  under  Rodil's  protection.  The  greater 
part  of  the  fugitives  belonged  to  the  principal  families  of  the 
country.  When  provisions  began  to  fail,  the  commandant  found 
it  necessary  to  expel  400  women,  and  one  morning  they  issued 
forth  in  a  long  line  of  procession.  The  besiegers  supposed  that 
the  enemy  was  making  a  sortie,  and  directed  the  fire  of  their 
artillery  against  the  helpless  beings,  who,  uttering  loud  shrieks, 
attempted  to  save  themselves  by  flight.  As  soon  as  the  mistake 
was  discovered  the  firing  stopped,  and  the  women  were  conveyed 
to  Lima.  Insurrections  were  several  times  attempted  by  the  gar- 
rison of  Callao ;  but  the  presence  of  mind  and  cool  resolution  of 
Rodil  in  every  instance  enabled  him  to  suppress  these  mutinies. 
The  guilty  were  punished  with  so  much  severity  that  the  sol- 
diers soon  gave  up  all  further  attempts.  Horses,  asses,  dogs  and 
cats,  became  at  length  the  food  of  the  besieged.  Rodil  at  this 
time  carried  on  a  traffic  which  does  no  honor  to  his  character. 
He  had  a  quantity  of  provisions  stored,  which  he  now  sold  at 
immense  prices.  For  a  fowl  he  got  from  three  to  four  gold  oun- 
ces. He  demanded  proportional  prices  for  bread,  &c.  A  con- 
tagious fever  broke  out,  and,  of  more  than  4000  persons  who  had 
taken  refuge  in  the  fortress,  only  about  200  survived  the  siege. 
Hunger  and  disease  at  last  obliged  Rodil  to  yield.  On  the  19th 
of  February,  1826,  he  obtained  an  honorable  capitulation,  and 
embarked  with  his  acquired  wealth  for  Spain,  where  he  was  in- 
vested with  the  rank  of  commander-in-chief  of  the  infantry 
guards. 

Since  the  independence  of  Peru  this  fortress  has  often  been  the 
seat  of  partial  revolutions.  Its  death-doom  has  been  pronounced 
by  different  governments,  and  it  will  be  a  fortunate  event  for 
the  country  when  it  ceases  to  exist  as  a  place  of  warlike  defence. 
It  has  lately  been  found  useful  for  other  purposes,  and  a  great 
portion  of  its  vast  space  has  been  converted  into  custom-house 
warehouses. 


SIEGE  OF  CALLAO.  35 


The  siege  of  Callao  by  the  Chilians,  of  which  we  were  eye- 
witnesses, was  by  no  means  such  a  serious  affair  as  that  under- 
taken by  the  patriots.  The  squadron  was  weak,  and  the  land 
army  inconsiderable.  Callao  was  only  cannonaded  during  the 
night  by  some  Chilian  gun-boats  commanded  by  Englishmen. 
The  artillery  of  the  castle  was  inefficient,  but  the  Chilian  bombs 
did  considerable  damage.  One  Sunday  afternoon  the  little 
Chilian  brig,  "  Colocolo,"  sailed  in  close  under  the  walls  of  the 
fortress,  and  threw  in  some  shot.  The  fire  was  immediately  re- 
turned by  all  the  guns  that  could  be  directed  to  the  sea-side  ; 
but  in  vain  did  the  Peruvians  e«pend  their  shot.  Every  ball 
went  ovef  the  "  Colocolo,"  and  fell  among  the  neutral  ships. 
The  commander  of  the  French  squadron  then  sent  a  boat  to  the 
fortress,  with  a  declaration  that  he  would  attack  it  in  good  ear- 
nest if  the  fire  was  not  discontinued.  The  message  had  due 
effect. 

A  few  days  after  the  affair  with  the  "  Colocolo,"  the  Peru- 
vians had  an  opportunity  of  avenging  the  provocations  they  had 
received.  The  Chilian  admiral  sent  an  officer,  with  seven  sail- 
ors, to  our  ship  to  purchase  shoes.  The  garrison  having  observ- 
ed the  Chilian  boat,  sent  out  a  shallop  with  twenty-five  men, 
which  came  close  alongside  of  us.  In  spite  of  our  opposition  the 
Chilian  officer  leaped  into  his  boat  and  stood  off.  He  was,  how- 
ever, too  late;  for,  just  as  he  was  leaving  the  ship's  side,  the 
hostile  shallop  passed  under  our  bowsprit,  and  fired  a  volley  into 
the  Chilian  boat.  Five  sailors  fell  into  the  sea,  either  killed  or 
wounded.  Of  three  men  picked  up,  one  was  the  officer,  who 
had  received  two  wounds  from  musket  balls.  We  saved  one  of 
the  wounded  sailors  by  throwing  him  a  rope,  by  which  we  pulled 
him  up,  covering  him  with  the  French  flag. 

The  Peruvians  had  no  longer  a  fleet  strong  enough  to  keep  at 
sea ;  but  soon  after  their  government  purchased  the  "  Edmond," 
and  some  other  merchantmen,  and  fitted  them  up  as  privateers. 
The  command  was  given  to  M.  Blanchet,  who  had  been  first 
pilot  of  the  "  Edmond"  during  our  voyage  from  Europe.  After 
he  had  taken  the  "  Arequipena,"  an  old  Chilian  ship  of  war,  and 
burnt  several  transports,  he  attacked  three  Chilian  corvettes  in 
the  harbor  of  Casma.  They  had  already  struck  their  flags, 


36  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

when  Blanchet  was  shot  while  boarding  one  of  them.  His  loss 
clamped  the  courage  of  the  Corsairs,  and  the  contest  was  soon 
given  up.  The  shock  of  Blanchet's  death  had  such  an  effect  on 
the  crew  of  the  "  Edmond,"  that  they  all  went  down  between 
decks  in  great  grief,  except  the  cook,  who  fired  a  gun  he  had 
charged  to  the  brim,  and  killed  some  men  who  were  on  a  bow- 
.sprit  of  one  of  the  hostile  vessels.  He  then  sprang  to  the  helm, 
and  steered  the  ship  safely  into  one  of  the  inlets  of  the  bay. 

The  lover  of  natural  history  finds  in  the  bay  of  Callao  nume- 
rous opportunities  for  gratifying  his  curiosity.  The  mammalia 
are  not  very  numerous.  Sea  otters  and  sea  dogs  are  found  there, 
as  on  all  parts  of  the  South  American  coast.  Two  species  (the 
Otaria  aurita,  Humb.,  and  the  O.  Ulloa,  Tsch.)  inhabit  the 
southern  declivity  of  the  Fronton.  I  went  to  hunt  seals  on  the 
rock  with  the  officers  of  a  French  ship  of  war.  When  we  land- 
ed, which  was  difficult  on  account  of  the  breakers,  we  fired  at 
the  animals  and  killed  a  number  of  them.  A  sailor  waded 
through  the  breakers  and  bound  the  dead  ^seals  with  a  rope,  by 
which  he  drew  them  on  board.  As  we  shot  a  great  number  of 
birds,  the  Chilian  admiral,  on  hearing  the  firing,  thought  that  one 
of  his  ships  must  be  engaged  with  the  Peruvian  Corsairs  ;  and, 
therefore,  sent  out  the  "  San  Lorenzo"  brig  of  war  to  see  what 
v/as  going  on. 

The  bay  abounds  in  fine  water- fowl.  Amongst  the  most  re- 
markable is  Humboldt's  penguin  (Spheniscus  Humboldli,  Mey.). 
A  few  are  smaller  than  the  common  grey  penguin,  and  one  is 
somewhat  different  in  color  on  the  back  and  breast.  The  Pe- 
ruvians call  it  Paxaro  nino  (the  child  bird).  It  is  easily  tamed, 
becomes  very  social,  and  follows  its  master  like  a  dog.  It  is 
amusing  to  see  it  waddling  along  with  its  plump  body  and  short 
legs,  and  keeping  itself  in  equilibrium  by  moving  its  floating 
wings.  I  had  one  completely  tame,  which  I  bought  from  an 
Indian.  It  was  named  Pepe,  and  it  answered  readily  to  the 
name.  When  I  was  at  my  meals  he  regularly  placed  himself 
beside  my  chair,  and  at  night  he  slept  under  my  bed.  When 
lie  wished  to  bathe  he  went  into  the  kitchen  and  beat  with  his 
bill  on  an  earthen  pan  until  somebody  threw  water  over  him,  or 
brought  him  a  vessel  full  of  water  for  a  bath. 


MARINE  AND  LAND  BIRDS.  37 

I  brought  away  a  few  of  the  marine  birds  which  appeared  the 
most  remarkable.  Among  them  was  the  banded  cormorant 
(Carlo  Gaimardi,  Less.).  On  the  back  it  is  grey,  marbled  by 
white  spots  ;  the  belly  is  fine  ash-grey,  and  on  each  side  of  the 
throat  there  runs  a  broad  white  stripe  or  band.  The  bill  is 
yellow  and  the  feet  are  red.  The  iris  is  peculiar  \  I  never  saw 
its  like  in  any  other  bird.  It  changes  throughout  the  whole  cir- 
cle in  regular  square  spots,  white  and  sea-green.  Thousands  of 
the  spotted  gannet  (Sula  variegata,  Tsch.)  inhabit  the  rocks  of 
the  island  of  San  Lorenzo.  This  bird  is  the  greatest  producer 
of  guano.  The  inca  tern  (Sterna  luca,  Less.)  is  without  doubt 
the  finest  of  the  whole  tern  family.  The  color  of  the  head  is 
brown-grey  ;  getting  darker  towards  the  tail,  and  brighter  on 
the  lower  body.  From  the  root  of  the  bill  on  either  side  there 
shoot  out  some  white  feathers  slightly  curving,  so  that  they  give 
the  appearance  of  white  moustachios.  Among  the  land  biids 
are  some  very  fine  colibri  (Trochilus  Amazitta,  and  Tr.  Cora, 
Less.).  The  horse-protector  (Crotophaga  sulcata,  Swains.)  is  a 
singular  animal.  It  is  about  the  size  of  a  starling,  with  a  short, 
compressed  and  curved  bill,  having  several  deep  furrows  along 
its  sides.  The  tail  is  long  and  fan-shaped.  The  whole  body  is 
of  a  deep  blue  color,  with  a  slight  metallic  brightness.  The 
bird  is  very  social  with  cattle  of  all  kinds,  and  more  particularly 
with  horses.  It  is  fond  of  perching  on  the  back  of  a  horse  or  an 
ass,  and  searching  for  insects  which  it  finds  there  in  abundance. 
These  animals  are  very  sensible  of  the  service  thus  rendered  to 
them,  and  by  the  manner  in  which  they  move  about  when  the 
bird  is  perched  on  their  heads  or  necks,  show  how  much  they  are 
gratified  by  its  presence. 

Foreigners,  when  they  visit  the  coast  of  Peru  for  the  first  time, 
are  much  surprised  at  the  immense  number  of  birds  of  the  vul- 
ture species  which  they  meet  with  about  the  roads  and  on 
the  roofs  of  the  houses.  In  Callao  and  in  all  other  ports  the 
Turkey  vulture  (Cathartes  aura,  Illig.)  is  frequently  seen.  It  is 
called  by  the  Spaniards  Gallinazo  a  cabtza  colorada  (red-headed 
vulture).  Further  in  the  interior  of  the  country  it  is  frequently 
seen,  though  there  it  is  less  common  than  the  black  gallinazo 
(Cathartes  fastens,  Illig.)-  The  color  of  the  former  is  dark 


38  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


brownish-black  ;  the  unplumed  head  and  throat  are  red  ;  the 
throat  is  full  of  wrinkles  and  warts.  The  latter  is  very  like  it 
in  size  and  color,  only  the  head  and  neck  are  greyish  black. 
These  birds  are  the  size  of  a  turkey-cock  ;  but  they  are  lanker 
and  more  angular  in  form.  The  black-headed  gallinazo  is  inac- 
tive, heavy,  and  seldom  flies  far.  When  seeking  food  he  hops 
about  on  the  ground  in  short,  regular  springs.  When  he  wishes 
to  move  faster  forwards  he  helps  himself  with  his  wings,  but  with- 
out flying.  Its  cry  is  seldom  heard  and  never  long  continued. 
At  noon,  sometimes  from  sixty  to  eighty  of  these  birds  perch 
themselves  on  the  tops  of  the  houses  or  on  the  adjoining  walls, 
and  with  the  heads  under  the  wing  they  all  go  to  roost.  They 
are  extremely  voracious,  and  devour  every  sort  of  animal  sub- 
stance they  can  find,  however  filthy  it  may  be.  They  are  not 
in  the  least  degree  shy,  for  they  hop  about  among  men  and  cat- 
tle in  the  most  populous  places.  The  Turkey  vulture  is  far 
more  lively,  and  its  movements  are  more  light.  It  flies  faster, 
and  continues  longer  on  the  wing  than  the  black-headed  gallina- 
zo. It  is,  however,  more  timid.  It  nestles  in  sandy  rocks  and 
uninhabited  islands.  The  female  lays  three  or  four  whitish 
eggs,  which  are  hatched  in  February  and  March.  The  common 
gallinazo  usually  builds  its  nest  on  the  tops  of  houses,  churches, 
ruins,  and  high  walls.  The  female  lays  three  or  four  eggs, 
which  are  whitish  brown  and  speckled,  and  are  hatched  in  the 
same  months  as  the  eggs  of  the  Turkey  vulture. 

Among  the  amphibia  in  Callao,  the  iguana  and  land  agama 
are  numerous.  Snakes  abound  in  the  low  bushes  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Rimac,  and  some  kinds,  which  are  venomous,  live  on  the 
arid  sand-banks.  All  the  sea  tortoises  have  been  driven  out  of 
the  bay,  and  now  inhabit  the  detached  creeks  of  the  uninhabited 
parts  of  the  coast. 

The  kinds  of  fish  are  numerous. — Sharks,  rays,  ballancers, 
corvinas,  bonitos,  &c.,  are  caught  in  abundance.  Most  of  the 
corvinas  and  bonitos  are  carried  to  market.  The  flesh  of  the 
latter  is  firm,  dry,  and  less  savory  than  the  corvina.  The 
Pexe-rey  (king-fish)  is  superior  in  flavor  to  the  Pexe-sapo  (toad- 
fish),~which  is  a  little  larger,  and  has  a  thick,  fleshy  head.  These 


A  PHRENOLOGICAL  PREDICTION.  39 

fish  are  taken  on  rocks  and  under  water,  where  they  are  struck 
by  a  kind  of  harpoon  hooks  and  drawn  out. 

When,  on  board  the  "  Edmond,"  I  first  saw  the  towers  of 
Lima  gilded  by  the  beams  of  the  setting  sun,  and  the  chains  of 
hills  behind,  rising  by  gradations,  until  in  the  farthest  back- 
ground they  blended  with  the  cloud-capped  Cordilleras,  I  felt 
an  inexpressible  desire  to  advance  towards  those  regions,  that  I 
might  breathe  the  air  of  the  Andes,  and  there  behold  nature 
under  her  wildest  aspect.  But  these  wishes  were  vain,  and  I  was 
compelled  to  turn  again  to  the  desolate  ocean  ;  for  it  was  under- 
stood that  our  further  voyage  must  be  towards  the  north,  and  from 
there  that  we  should  proceed  to  the  coast  of  Asia.  I  did  not  then 
foresee  that  my  longing  might  be  fulfilled,  and  that  so  much  of 
enjoyment,  together  with  so  much  toil  and  danger,  awaited  me  in 
the  mountainous  regions  of  Peru. 

Notwithstanding  the  insecurity  of  the  road  to  Lima  I  resolved  to 
proceed  thither.  Carriages  and  horses  were  not  to  be  procured 
in  Callao,  for  the  latter  were  all  either  seized  for  the  service  of  the 
government  or  concealed.  I  could  therefore  travel  only  on  foot. 
Don  Manuel  de  la  Guarda,  the  commander  of  the  fortress,  ob- 
served, whilst  giving  me  a  passport,  that  he  would  advise  me  to 
use  speed,  and  to  get  as  soon  as  possible  out  of  the  range  of  the 
guns,  for  he  expected  every  moment  to  be  obliged  to  order  the 
firing  to  commence.  I  did  not  neglect  to  follow  his  advice. 
However  I  had  not  got  more  than  a  hundred  paces  from  the  castle 
when  the  artillery  began  to  play,  and  balls  fell  around  on  every 
side.  I  quickened  my  pace,  and  soon  got  near  some  fences,  where 
men  were  firing  with  muskets.  There  I  was  seized  by  some 
Chilian  cuirassiers,  who  sent  me  forward  from  post  to  post,  until 
at  last  in  one  of  the  posts  I  met  with  an  officer  with  whom  I  had 
been  acquainted  in  Chile.  When  I  was  dining  one  day  on  board 
the  corvette  Confederacion  in  the  bay  of  Valparaiso,  the  young  offi- 
cer whom  I  have  just  alluded  to  sat  next  me.  The  conversation 
happening  to  turn  on  phrenology,  he  insisted  on  my  examining 
his  head,  and  pronouncing  a  phrenological  diagnosis  on  it. 
Though  I  assured  him  that  I  attached  no  value  on  this  alleged 
science,  he  continued  to  urge  me  to  make  the  examination. 
After  feeling  his  head  I  observed  to  him,  with  great  gravity : 


40  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


"  Here  is  the  organ  of  mathematics  pretty  well  developed,  and  it 
is  probable  that  you  may  distinguish  yourself  in  that  branch  of 
knowledge."  The  fact  was,  I  had  observed  from  his  uniform 
that  he  belonged  to  the  artillery,  and  since  I  was  obliged  to  say 
something,  I  thought  it  would  be  best  to  make  my  remarks  refer 
to  his  profession.  Don  Antonio  had  not  forgotten  it,  for  as  soon 
as  he  saw  me  at  the  outpost,  he  ran  up  to  me  quite  overjoyed, 
and  told  me  that  I  had  judged  rightly  of  his  talent,  for  the  guns 
which  he  commanded  always  sent  their  balls  direct  into  the  for- 
tress, and  did  more  execution  than  any  other.  By  following  my 
advice  and  cultivating  his  mathematical  organ,  he  assured  me, 
he  was  enabled  to  direct  a  gun  better  than  any  other  officer,  and 
his  aim  could  always  be  relied  on.  He  immediately  procured 
me  a  pass,  by  which  I  was  conducted  all  the  remainder  of  my 
journey. 

The  distance  from  Callao  to  Lima  is  two  Spanish  leagues. 
The  road  is  covered  with  deep  sand,  and  on  either  side  are  un- 
cultivated fields  and  low  brushwood.  After  leaving  Callao  I 
came  to  Bella  Vista,  then  to  the  ruins  of  an  old  Indian  village, 
and  farther  on  inland  reached  some  plantations.  Halfway  be- 
tween Callao  and  Lima  is  the  convent  of  la  Virgen  del  Carmen, 
and  also  a  chapel.  The  convent  is  now  abandoned,  but  in  front 
of  the  chapel  there  constantly  stands  a  monk,  who  begs  for  alms. 
Close  to  the  convent  there  is  a  Tambo,*  in  which  brandy, 
lemonade,  and  bananas  are  sold.  This  place,  which  is  called 
La  Legna,  is  a  Spanish  league  from  both  towns.  The  hired 
horses  are  so  used  to  put  up  at  this  place,  that  it  is  only  with 
great  trouble  they  can  be  got  to  pass  it. 

Though  much  wearied  by  my  journey  on  foot,  I  tried  in  vain 
to  obtain  some  refreshment  here.  Unluckily  the  Tambero,  a 
Zambo,  had  decamped,  as  his  house  had  often  been  plundered. 

In  the  most  oppressive  heat  I  wandered  over  the  shadeless 
plain,  and  at  last  reached  the  fine  road  called  the  Alameda  del 
Callao,  which  extends  from  the  Callao  Gate  of  Lima  to  nearly 
half  a  league  beyond  the  city.  Don  Ambrosio  O'Higgins,  an 


*  Tambo  is  an  Indian  word,  signifying  an  Inn.     Tambero  means  Inn- 
keeper. 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  KINGS.  4l 

Irishman  by  birth,  first  a  small  shopkeeper  in  Lima,  then  a 
soldier  in  Chile,  and  finally  viceroy  of  Peru,  with  the  title  of 
Marques  de  Osorno,  built  the  fine  Callao  Gate  and  laid  out  the 
Alameda.  On  the  6th  of  January,  1800,  it  was  solemnly 
opened.  The  whole  undertaking  cost  340,964  dollars.  Resting- 
places  are  made  in  the  Alameda  at  regular  distances ;  and  there 
are  on  each  side  charming  gardens,  with  luxuriant  fruit-trees. 
Happy  in  having  reached  the  end  of  my  wearisome  journey,  I 
quickly  passed  through  the  Callao  Gate,  and  entered  the  City  of 
the  Kings. 


49  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Lima — Situation  and  extent  of  the  City — Streets,  Houses,  Churches  and 
Convents — San  Pedro — The  Jesuits — Nunneries — Beatarios — Hospitals — 
San  Andres — The  Foundling  House — The  Pantheon — The  Palace — The 
Plaza  Mayor — Pizarro — The  Cabildo — Fountains — Palace  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion—The University — National  Library — Museum  of  Natural  History 
and  Antiquities — Academy  of  Design — The  Mint — The  Theatre — Circus 
for  Cock-fighting— The  Bridge— The  City  Wall— Santa  Catalina— 
Barracks. 

LIMA  is  built  on  both  banks  of  the  river  Rimac,  which 
divides  the  town  into  two  unequal  parts.*  The  larger  part  (the 
town,  properly  so  called)  is  situated  on  the  southern  bank  of  the 
river ;  the  smaller  part,  consisting  of  the  suburb  San  Lazaro,  or 
the  fifth  section,  is  on  the  northern  bank.  The  greatest  extent 
of  Lima  is  from  east  to  west ;  from  the  Gate  of  Maravillas  to  the 
Monserrate.  Between  those  two  points  the  distance  is  4471 
varas,f  or  two-thirds  of  a  Legua,  or  Spanish  league  ;  and  the 
greatest  breadth  of  the  city,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  Bridge  (the 
suburb  of  San  Lazaro  not  included)  to  the  Gate  of  Guadalupe,  is 
2515  varas,  or  two-fifths  of  a  Legua.  The  utmost  circumfer- 
ence of  Lima  is  about  ten  English  miles.  The  plain  on  which 
the  city  is  built,  takes  rather  a  decided  slope  from  east  to  west. 

The  streets  of  Lima  intersect  each  other  in  right  lines,  and 
consequently  groups  of  houses  form  quadrangles  :  these  are  called 
manzanas.  Each  side  of  one  of  these  manzanas  measures  on  the 
average  from  140  to  145  varas ;  and  it  may  therefore  be  com- 
puted that,  collectively,  they  occupy  a  superficies  of  from  148,- 

*  The  city  of  Lima  was  founded  by  Don  Francisco  Pizarro  on  the  6th  of 
January,  1534.  As  it  was  the  day  of  the  Epiphany,  Lima  received  the 
title  of  Ciudad  de  los  Reyes  (City  of  the  Kings).  Historical  records  vary 
respecting  the  day  and  the  year  of  the  foundation  of  Lima  ;  but  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  the  date  I  have  mentioned  above  is  perfectly  correct 

t  The  Vara  Castellana  is  equal  to  33  inches  English  measure. 


STYLE  OF  HOUSE  BUILDING  IN  LIMA.  43 

000  to  160,000.  There  are  in  all  211  manzanas,  of  which  those 
situated  on  the  Periphery  are  the  smallest  and  most  irregularly 
constructed.  Lima  is  divided  into  five  sections,  which  are  again 
subdivided  into  ten  districts  and  forty-six  Barrios.  It  contains 
about  3380  houses,  56  churches  and  convents  (the  latter  occupy- 
ing at  least  one-fourth  of  the  superficies  of  the  city),  34  squares 
or  open  areas  in  front  of  the  churches,  and  419  streets.  On  the 
average  the  streets  are  about  34  feet  wide  and  386  feet  long. 
Most  of  them  are  very  badly  paved,  but  they  have  lateral  foot- 
paths. According  to  the  original  plan  for  building  Lima,  it  was 
intended  that  all  the  streets  should  run  in  one  direction,  viz., 
from  southeast  to  northwest,  so  that  the  walls  of  the  houses  might 
afford  shade  both  morning  and  afternoon.  Between  the  Plaza 
Mayor  and  Santa  Clara  this  plan  has  been  pretty  uniformly  car- 
ried out ;  but  in  other  parts  it  has  been  less  rigidly  observed. 
At  noon  there  can  be  no  shade,  as  the  city  is  situated  in  12°  of 
south  latitude. 

The  impression  produced  at  first  sight  of  Lima  is  by  no  means 
favorable,  for  the  Periphery,  the  quarter  which  a  stranger  first 
enters,  contains  none  but  old,  dilapidated,  and  dirty  houses  ;  but 
on  approaching  the  vicinity  of  the  principal  square,  the  place 
improves  so  greatly  that  the  miserable  appearance  it  presents  at 
first  sight  is  easily  forgotten. 

Most  of  the  houses  in  Lima  are  only  one  story  high,  and  some 
have  only  the  ground-floor.  The  larger  class  of  houses  corres- 
pond one  with  another  in  the  style  of  building.  In  front  they 
have  two  doors  :  one  is  called  the  Azaguan,  and  is  the  principal 
entrance  to  the  house  ;  and  next  to  it  is  the  door  of  the  Cochera 
(coach-house).  Either  above  the  cochera  door,  or  on  one  side  of 
the  house  door,  there  is  frequently  a  little  chamber,  having  a 
window  closed  by  a  wooden  railing.  At  this  little  railed  window 
the  ladies  are  accustomed  to  sit  and  watch  the  passers-by — nor 
are  they  very  much  displeased  when  some  of  the  latter  occasion- 
ally make  free  to  reguardar  la  reja  (to  look  at  the  railing).  The 
azaguan  opens  into  a  spacious  court-yard  called  the  Patio,  on 
either  side  of  which  there  are  little  rooms.  Directly  facing  the 
azaguan,  is  the  dwelling-house,  round  which  there  usually  runs 
a  balcony.  Two  large  folding-doors  lead  into  the  Hall  (Sala), 


44  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 


in  which  tfie  furniture  consists  of  a  sofa,  a  hammock,  and  a  row 
of  chairs :  the  floor  is  covered  with  straw  matting.  From  the 
sala  a  glazed  door  opens  into  a  smaller  apartment,  called  the 
Cuadro,  which  is  elegantly,  often  splendidly  furnished,  and  the 
floor  is  carpeted.  This  is  the  room  into  which  visitors  are  shown. 
Adjoining  the  cuadro  are  the  sleeping-rooms,  the  dining-room, 
the  nursery,  &c.  These  apartments  communicate  with  a  second 
court-yard,  called  the  Traspatio,  the  walls  of  which  are  often 
adorned  with  fresco  paintings.  This  Traspatio,  a  portion  of 
which  is  usually  laid  out  as  a  little  garden,  communicates  with 
the  kitchen  and  the  stable  (corral).  A  small  avenue,  called  the 
callejon,  forms  a  communication  from  the  first  to  the  second  Patio, 
and  is  used  as  a  passage  for  the  horses.  When  there  is  no  calle- 
jon,  as  is  often  the  case  in  the  poorer  class  of  houses,  the 
horses  are  led  through  the  sala  and  the  cuadro.  In  the  upper 
story  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms  differs  from  that  of  the  ground- 
floor.  Above  the  azaguan  is  the  cuadro,  opening  into  a  balcony, 
which  is  attached  to  most  of  the  houses  in  Lima.  The  sala  in 
the  upper  story  forms  an  ante-room  to  the  cuadro ;  and  the  rest 
of  the  apartments  are  built  above  the  ranges  of  ground-floor  rooms 
on  either  side  of  the  patio.  Above  the  sala  and  cuadro  of  the 
ground-floor,  there  are  no  upper  rooms.  The  roofs  of  those  two 
apartments  form  a  kind  of  large  terrace  called  the  Azotea,  which 
is  paved  with  freestone,  and  surrounded  by  a  railing.  This 
azotea  serves  as  a  play-ground  for  the  children  of  the  family ;  it 
is  ornamented  with  flower-pots,  and  covered  with  an  awning  to 
shade  it  from  the  sun.  The  upper  story  has  a  flat  roof,  composed 
of  bamboos  and  mats,  overspread  with  mortar  or  light  tiles.  In 
the  houses  of  Lima,  as  in  those  of  Callao,  the  windows  of  some 
of  the  rooms  are  made  in  the  roofs.  The  other  windows,  of 
which  there  are  but  few,  are  on  each  side  of  the  house  door ; 
they  are  tastefully  ornamented,  and  often  have  richly  gilt  lattices. 
The  style  of  house-building  here  described  must  of  course  be 
taken  merely  as  a  general  example  ;  that  there  are  numerous 
deviations  from  it  may  naturally  be  supposed.  In  the  large 
houses  the  walls  are  of  brick,  faced  with  ornamental  tiles  (adobes). 
In  the  smaller  houses,  the  walls  consist  of  double  rows  of  bam- 
boos, covered  with  plaster,  and  afterwards  painted  white  or  yel- 


CHURCHES  AND  CONVENTS  IN  LIMA.  45 

low.  The  fronts  of  the  houses  are  usually  quite  plain,  but  here 
and  there  may  be  seen  a  house  with  a  finely  ornamented  facade. 
The  house  of  Torre  Tagle,  near  San  Pedro,  and  some  others, 
are  remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  their  ornaments,  which  attract 
the  notice  of  all  strangers  visiting  Lima. 

Owing  to  the  heat  of  the  climate,  the  doors  and  windows  are 
almost  always  kept  open,  so  that  the  houses  have  not  the  privacy 
and  comfort  of  European  dwellings. 

Of  the  numerous  churches  and  convents  in  Lima,  some  are 
deserving  of  particular  mention.  The  cathedral  occupies  the 
whole  eastern  side  of  the  Plaza  Mayor.  The  foundation  stone 
of  this  edifice  was  laid  on  the  18th  of  January,  1534,  by  Don 
Francisco  Pizarro,  who  named  it  the  Churdh  of  Nuestra  Senora 
de  la  Asuncion.  Ninety  years  elapsed  before  the  building  was 
completed,  and  on  the  19th  of  October,  1625,  it  was  consecrated 
by  the  Archbishop,  Don  Gonzalo  de  Ocampo.  Such  was  the 
pomp  observed  at  this  ceremony,  that,  though  mass  commenced 
at  six  in  the  morning,  it  was  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before 
the  host  was  raised. 

The  interior  of  the  cathedral  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  The 
grand  altar  is  ornamented  with  seven  Ionic  columns  of  silver, 
twelve  feet  high,  and  one  and  a  half  thick,  and  is  surmounted  by 
a  massive  silver  gilt  crown.  The  tabernacle  is  seven  feet  and  a 
half  high,  and  composed  of  exquisitely  wrought  gold,  set  with  a 
profusion  of  diamonds  and  emeralds.  On  each  side  of  the  altar 
there  are  massive  silver  candelabra,  each  weighing  four  and  a 
half  arobas  (712^  pounds).  On  high  festival  days,  the  gorgeous 
splendor  of  the  cathedral  of  Lima  probably  exceeds  that  of  the 
principal  churches  in  Rome.  The  robes  and  ornaments  worn  by 
the  priests  correspond  with  the  magnificence  of  the  altar  ;  they 
are  embroidered  in  gold,  and  set  with  precious  stones.  The  ca- 
thedral service  is  performed  by  the  canons  (Canonigos). 

Among  the  Churches  of  Lima,  San  Lazaro  is  distinguished  for 
its  tasteful  exterior,  and  the  chaste  simplicity  of  its  internal  de- 
coration. The  bodies  of  persons  unknown,  found  dead  in  the 
streets,  are  conveyed  to  the  door  of  the  church  of  San  Lazaro, 
and  there  exposed  for  the  space  of  twenty-four  hours. 

The  convent  of  San  Francisco,  the  largest  of  the  monastic  es- 


46  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


tablishments  in  Lima,  is  an  immense  building,  situated  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Plaza  Mayor.  In  this  convent  mass  is  read  daily 
every  half-hour,  from  five  in  the  morning  till  noon.  A  small 
chapel  within  the  convent  is  called  the  Capilla  de  los  Milagros, 
and  a  superstitious  tradition  records  that  during  the  great  earth- 
quake of  1630,  the  image  of  the  Madonna,  which  surmounts  the 
chapel  door,  turned  towards  the  grand  altar,  and  with  folded 
hands  invoked  the  divine  grace  in  favor  of  the  city.  By  this  in- 
tercession it  is  believed  that  Lima  was  saved  from  total  destruc- 
tion. The  monk  who  conducted  me  over  the  convent,  and  who 
related  to  me  this  miracle,  observed  with  much  simplicity  that  it 
was  singular  that  the  Madonna  did  not  repeat  her  gracious  inter- 
cession in  the  year  1746. 

The  carved  work  which  adorns  the  ceilings  in  the  corridors  is 
admirably  executed,  though  not  very  beautiful  in  design.  The 
cells  of  the  monks  are  very  simple,  but  perfectly  comfortable  for 
habitation.  The  spacious  and  well- arranged  gardens  within  the 
area  of  the  convent  form  a  pleasing  contrast  to  the  gloomy  ap- 
pearance of  the  external  walls. 

To  the  Franciscan  monks  also  belongs  the  convent  of  Los  Des- 
calzos,  situated  in  the  suburb  of  San  Lazaro.  A  broad  avenue 
planted  with  six  rows  of  trees  leads  to  Los  Descalzos.  It  is  a 
neat  but  not  large  edifice,  and  stands  at  the  foot  of  a  sterile  hill. 
The  extensive  garden  which  surrounds  it,  and  which  is  in  a  very 
neglected  condition,  contains  three  palm-trees,  the  only  ones  to  be 
seen  in  the  near  vicinity  of  Lima.  The  situation  of  the  convent 
is  not  healthy,  and  in  consequence  the  monks  frequently  suffer 
from  intermittent  fever.  These  monks  go  barefooted,  and  live 
entirely  on  alms.  Every  morning  two  lay  brethren  ride  on  asses 
to  the  city,  where  they  visit  the  market-place,  and  obtain  from  the 
different  saleswomen  charitable  donations  of  fish,  vegetables,  or 
meat. 

Another  convent  is  the  Recoleta  de  San  Diego.  During  Lent, 
and  especially  in  Passion  Week,  many  men  retire  to  this  place 
to  prepare  themselves  by  mortification  and  prayer  for  confession 
and  participation  in  the  Holy  Sacrament. 

The  convent  of  Santo  Domingo  is  very  rich.  It  enjoys  a  yearly 
revenue  of  from  seventy  to  seventy-five  thousand  dollars,  for  the 


ARREST  OF  THE  JESUITS.  47 

most  part  accruing  from  the  ground-rents  of  houses  in  the  city. 
The  steeple  of  Santo  Domingo  is  the  loftiest  in  all  Lima.  It  is 
188  feet  high,  and  is  visible  at  the  distance  of  three  leagues.  It 
is  built  of  wood,  and  inclines  so  considerably  in  its  upper  part, 
that  there  is  little  probability  of  its  surviving  another  earthquake 
like  that  of  1746.  The  interior  of  the  church  is  splendid.  The 
grand  altar  almost  vies  with  that  of  the  cathedral. 

San  Pedro  must,  doubtless,  at  a  former  period,  have  been  the 
principal  convent  in  Lima.  It  belonged  to  the  Jesuits,  and  was 
their  Colegio  maxima .  This  establishment  possessed  enormous 
revenues,  for  all  the  finest  plantations  and  best  houses  in  Lima 
were  the  property  of  the  order.  In  1773,  the  king  of  Spain,  in- 
stigated by  the  celebrated  Bull  of  the  21st  of  June  of  that  year 
(Dominus  ac  redemptor  noster),  dispatched  an  order  to  the  vice- 
roys of  the  provinces  of  South  America,  directing  them  to  arrest 
the  Jesuits  all  in  one  night,  to  ship  them  off  to  Spain,  and  to  con- 
fiscate their  wealth.  Of  course  the  utmost  secresy  was  observed, 
and  it  is  a  well-authenticated  fact,  that  in  Peru,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  viceroy,  and  those  of  his  agents  whose  assistance  was 
indispensable,  no  one  knew  anything  of  the  affair.  But  the  same 
ship  which  conveyed  the  king's  commands  to  the  viceroy,  had  on 
board  the  necessary  instructions  to  the  vicar-general  in  Lima, 
from  the  superior  of  the  Jesuits  in  Madrid,  who  was  fully  ac- 
quainted with  the  king's  design.  The  preparatory  arrangements 
were  made  under  the  seal  of  perfect  secresy,  and  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night  the  viceroy  assembled  his  council,  and  communicated  to 
them  the  royal  commands.  It  was  determined  that  no  one  should 
be  permitted  to  leave  the  council-chamber  until  the  blow  was 
struck.  At  midnight  some  confidential  officers,  with  the  requi- 
site assistance,  were  despatched  to  arrest  the  Jesuits,  an  accurate 
list  of  whose  names  lay  on  the  table  before  the  viceroy.  The 
patrols  knocked  at  the  gate  of  San  Pedro,  which  was  immediately 
opened.  The  commanding  officer  desired  to  see  the  vicar-gene- 
ral, and  the  porter  ushered  him  into  the  great  hall  of  the  convent, 
where  all  the  members  of  the  order  were  assembled,  evidently  ex- 
pecting his  visit.  The  holy  brethren  were  prepared  for  immedi- 
ate departure,  each  being  provided  with  a  bag  or  trunk  contain- 
ing such  articles  as  were  requisite  on  a  sea  voyage.  Similar 


48  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 

preparations  had  been  made  in  all  the  other  convents  belonging 
to  the  Jesuits.  The  surprise  and  disappointment  of  the  viceroy 
on  receiving  this  information  may  be  easier  conceived  than  de- 
scribed. Without  delay  he  ordered  the  whole  brotherhood  to  be 
conducted  under  a  strong  escort  to  Callao,  where  they  embarked. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  days  inventories  were  made  of  the  effects 
in  the*  convents.  At  San  Pedro  it  was  expected  that  vast  trea- 
sures in  specie  would  be  found ;  but  how  great  was  the  dismay* 
when,  instead  of  the  millions  which  it  was  well  known  the  order 
possessed,  only  a  few  thousand  dollars  could  be  collected.  All 
the  keys,  even  that  of  the  treasury,  were  politely  laid  out  in  the 
chamber  of  the  superior.  This  was  a  cruel  mockery !  The 
Jesuits  could  not  have  taken  a  more  ample  revenge  on  the 
treachery  that  had  been  pr-  3tised  on  them. 

It  was  suspected  that  thp  treasures  were  concealed  partly  in 
the  convent  of  San  Pedro,  tu^d  partly  in  the  plantations.  Accord- 
ing to  the  evidence  of  an  old  negro,  at  that  time  in  the  service 
of  the  convent,  he,  together  with  some  of  his  comrades,  was  em- 
ployed during  several  nights  in  carrying  heavy  bags  of  money 
into  the  vaults  of  the  convent.  Their  eyes  were  bandaged,  and 
they  were  conducted  by  two  of  the  brethren,  who  helped  them  to 
raise  and  set  down  the  bags.  The  negro,  moreover,  declared  his 
conviction  that  there  was  a  subterraneous  spring  near  the  spot 
where  the  treasure  was  deposited.  The  searches  hitherto  made 
have  been  very  superficial,  and  it  seems  not  impossible  that  by 
dint  of  more  active  exertions  this  concealed  wealth  may  yet  be 
brought  to  light. 

At  present  San  Pedro  is  occupied  by  about  a  dozen  lay  priests. 
They  perform  the  spiritual  service  of  the  Oratorio  de  San  Felipe 
Neri.  They  live  on  the  revenues  derived  from  the  rents  of  the 
few  plantations  which  have  not  been  confiscated  or  sold.  The 
chapel  is  prettily  fitted  up  in  the  interior,  and  the  midnight  mass 
at  Christmas  is  performed  there  with  great  solemnity.  The  ex- 
ternal walls  of  both  the  chapel  and  the  convent  are  painted  a 
reddish-brown  color,  which  has  a  very  sombre  and  ugly  effect. 

The  convents  of  Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Marced  and  San  Agus- 
tin  are  situated  at  the  back  of  San  Pedro.  The  former  is  spa- 
cious, but  not  largely  endowed;  the  latter  is  a  poor-looking 


HOSPITALS  OF  LIMA.  49 

edifice,  but  it  possesses  rich  revenues.  To  San  Agustin  is  at- 
tached the  once  eminent  but  now  very  inferior  college  of  San 
Ildefonso. 

Besides  the  monastic  establishments  above  named,  Lima  con- 
tains several  smaller  convents  for  friars,  and  sixteen  nunneries. 
Of  the  latter  the  largest  is  the  Monasterio  de  la  Concepcion.  It 
is  very  rich,  and  has  an  annual  revenue  of  upwards  of  100,000 
dollars ;  in  other  respects  it  is  remarkable  for  nothing  except  the 
not  very  pious  habits  of  its  inmates.  Santa  Clara  and  the  Encar- 
nacion  are  also  large  establishments,  and  well  endowed.  The 
nuns  who  observe  the  most  rigorous  conventual  rules  are  the 
Capuchinas  de  Jesus  Maria,  the  Nazarenas  and  the  Trinitarias 
descalzas.  For  extremely  pious  women.,  who  wish  to  lead  a  clois- 
tered life  without  taking  the  veil,  there^are  three  establishments 
called  Beaterios,  which  may  be  entered  *nd  quitted  at  pleasure  :* 
these  are  the  Beaterio  de  Patrocinio,  the 'Beaterio  de  Santa  Rosa 
de  Viterbo,  and  the  Beaterio  de  Copacqbana.  This  last  was 
originally  established  exclusively  for  Indian  females.  The  Re- 
fugio  de  San  Jose  is  a  place  for  the  reception  of  married  women 
who  wish  to  withdraw  from  the  ill  treatment  of  bad  husbands. 
On  the  other  hand  husbands  who  are  of  opinion  that  their  wives 
may  be  improved  by  a  little  temporary  seclusion  and  quiet  medi- 
tation, can,  with  the  permission  of  the  archbishop,  send  them  for 
a  while  to  the  Refugio.  The  Recojidas  is  another  institution  of 
the  same  kind,  but  destined  for  females  of  the  poorer  class. 

Lima  possesses  a  great  many  hospitals,  but  all  are  lamentably 
defective  in  internal  arrangement,  and  above  all  in  judicious 
medical  attendance.  The  largest  of  the  hospitals,  San  Andres, 
was  founded  in  the  year  1552  by  the  Licentiate  Francisco  de 
Molina.  Three  years  afterwards,  the  Viceroy  Don  Andres  Hur- 
tado  de  Mendoza,  first  Marquis  de  Canete,  placed  it  under  the 
direction  of  the  Government.  Down  to  the  year  1826  this  hos- 
pital was  exclusively  destined  for  the  reception  of  sick  Spaniards. 
San  Andres  contains  five  large  and  four  smaller  wards,  with  387 
beds.  One  part  of  the  establishment  is  set  apart  for  incurable 

*  The  females  who  retire  to  these  establishments  are  called  JBeafat 
(Bigots).  The  term  Beqterio  signifies  a  house  for  Bigots.— T. 


50  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 


patients.  The  annual  outlay  of  the  hospital  amounts  to  between 
45,000  and  50,000  dollars.  In  the  hospital  of  San  Andres  insane 
patients  are  received,  and  their  number  is  always  considerable. 
On  the  30th  of  November  (St.  Andrew's  Day)  this  hospital  is 
opened  for  the  admittance  of  the  public,  and  one  of  the  favorite 
amusements  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lima  is  to  go  to  San  Andres  to 
see  the  lunatics.  It  is  melancholy  to  observe  these  unfortunate 
beings,  thus  made  the  objects  of  public  exhibition,  and  irritated 
by  the  idle  throng  who  go  to  stare  at  them.  The  collection  of 
alms  from  the  numerous  visitors  is,  doubtless,  the  motive  for 
keeping  up  this  custom,  which,  nevertheless,  is  exceedingly  re- 
prenensible. 

The  hospital  Santa  Ana  was  founded  in  the  year  1549,  by 
Don  Fray  Geronimo  de  Loyza,  first  Archbishop  of  Lima,  and  was 
destined  for  Indians  of  both  sexes.  The  benevolent  founder,  with 
the  most  earnest  self-devotion,  attended  the  patients,  and  with 
true  Christian  charity  performed  the  humblest  duties  of  a  sick- 
nurse.  He  died  in  1575  in  the  hospital,  to  which  he  bequeathed 
a  yearly  revenue  of  16,000  dollars.  The  building  contains  five 
large  wards,  and  336  beds.  Since  the  declaration  of  indepen- 
dence no  Indian  has  been  received  into  it.  This  hospital,  alter- 
nately with  those  of  San  Andres  and  San  Bartolome,  was  used 
as  a  military  lazaretto  ;  but  since  1841  it  has  been  allotted  ex- 
clusively to  female  patients  of  all  classes;  for  it  was  found 
necessary  to  abandon  the  former  female  hospital  of  La  Caridad, 
on  account  of  its  damp  situation. 

San  Bartolome  was  an  hospital  founded  in  the  year  1661,  for 
negro  patients  ;  but  it  has  lately  been  closed.  It  contains  eleven 
wards  and  217  beds. 

Under  the  name  of  Santo  Toribio  an  hospital  for  incurable  pa- 
tients was  established  in  the  year  1669,  by  Don  Domingo  Cueto. 

In  1702  it  was  consigned  to  the  superintendence  of  an  order  of 
monks,  called  the  padres  Belemitas,  and  in  1822  it  was  incorpo- 
rated with  the  hospital  of  San  Lazaro.  The  latter  establishment 
was  founded  by  Anton  Sanchez,  in  the  year  1563,  and  was  ex- 
clusively destined  for  leprous  patients.  Persons  afflicted  with 
cutaneous  diseases,  and  especially  maladies  of  a  contagious  na- 
ture, are  sent  thither. 


CEMETERY  IN  LIMA.  51 


In  the  convent  of  San  Pedro  there  is  a  small  hospital  for  poor 
priests.  Attached  to  it  is  a  dispensary,  from  whence  the  poor 
were  supplied  gratuitously  with  medicines,  at  the  time  when  the 
convent  was  in  the  possession  of  the  Jesuits. 

Lima  also  possesses  a  Foundling  Hospital.  Luis  Ojeda,  who 
humbly  took  to  himself  the  title  of  Luis  el  Pecador  (Luis  the 
Sinner),  bequeathed  all  his  fortune  to  the  foundation  of  this  esta- 
blishment, which  received  the  name  of  "  Collegio  de  Santa  Cruz 
de  los  nifios  expositos."* 

The  refuge  for  female  penitents  was  founded  in  the  year  1670 
by  the  viceroy,  Count  de  Lemos.  The  funds  were  derived  from 
a  legacy  bequeathed  for  that  object  by  Don  Francisco  Arcain  in 
1572.  The  establishment  has  but  few  inmates. 

In  former  times  it  was  the  custom  in  Lima  to  bury  the  dead  in 
graves  dug  within  the  churches  ;  but  Jthe  heat  of  the  climate, 
and  the  difficulty  of  making  the  graves  sufficiently  deep,  render- 
ing this  practice  exceedingly  objectionable,  the  viceroy,  Don 
Jose  Fernando  Abascal,  determined  on  making  a  burial  place 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  city.  A  piece  of  ground  was  allot- 
ted for  the  purpose,  and  it  was  consecrated  on  the  1st  of  January, 
1808.  It  is  called  the  Cementerio  general  or  Panteon,  and  is  sit- 
uated eastward  of  the  city  on  the  high  road  leading  to  the  Sierra 
de  Tarma.  It  consists  of  two  gardens,  very  prettily  planted,  and 
inclosed  by  high  walls.  Along  the  walls,  on  the  inner  side, 
there  are  niches,  about  a  thousand  in  number,  ranged  in  sixteen 
different  classes,  and  they  may  be  purchased  by  those  who  wish 
to  possess  them.  Many  of  them  belong  to  families  and  convents. 
The  graves  are  watched  and  kept  in  order  by  criminals  who  are 
condemned  to  this  duty  as  a  punishment.  It  is  calculated  that 
it  will  be  five  years  before  this  cemetery  is  filled.  When  room 
is  wanting,  the  niches  which  have  been  first  occupied  will  be 
cleared,  and  the  bones  deposited  in  a  bone-house,  of  simple  but 
appropriate  construction.  At  the  entrance  of  the  Panteon  there 
is  a  neat  little  chapel,  where  the  funeral  obsequies  are  performed. 
Burials  are  permitted  to  take  place  only  in  the  morning  ;  and 

*  According  to  some  accounts  this  establishment  was  instituted  in  1654, 
by  Mateo  Pastor  de  Velasco,  a  native  of  Portollano  in  Spain. 


52  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


when  a  funeral  retinue  arrives  too  late,  the  body  remains  unin- 
lerred  until  the  following  morning.  The  rich  are  buried  in  cof- 
fins, the  poor  merely  in  winding  sheets,  which  are  made  after  the 
pattern  of  the  habits  worn  by  the  bare- footed  friars  of  the  order 
of  San  Francisco. 

The  grand  square  of  Lima,  the  Plaza  Mayor,  though  not  in 
the  centre  of  the  city,  is  nevertheless  the  central  point  of  its  life 
and  business.  It  is  426  feet  distant  from  the  Rimac,  and  pre- 
sents a  regular  quadrangle,  each  side  of  which  is  510  feet  long. 
From  each  of  the  four  corners  two  handsome  straight  streets  run 
at  right  angles.  There  is  no  pavement,  but  the  ground  is  covered 
with  fine  sand.  The  cathedral  and  the  archbishop's  palace  oc- 
cupy the  eastern  side  of  the  square.  The  latter  adjoins  the 
sanctuary,  and  has  rather  a  fine  facade.  The  windows  of  the 
principal  apartments  open  into  a  balcony,  commanding  a  view  of 
the  Plaza. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  square  stands  the  government  palace, 
formerly  the  residence  of  the  all-powerful  viceroys.  Its  exterior 
aspect  is  mean.  It  is  a  square  building,  and  the  front  next  the 
Plaza  is  disfigured  by  a  long  range  of  shabby  little  shops  (called 
La  rivera),  in  which  drugs  are  sold.*  These  shops  are  sur- 
mounted by  a  balcony.  A  large  double  door  opens  from  the 
Plaza  into  the  great  court-yard  of  the  palace.  Along  the  western 
side  of  the  building  there  are  also  a  number  of  little  shops  occu- 
pied by  saddlers  and  dealers  in  old  iron.  The  street,  running 
in  this  direction,  is  called  the  Old  Iron  Street  (Calle  del  Fierro 
Viego).  The  principal  entrance  to  the  palace  is  on  this  side. 
On  the  south  the  building  has  no  entrance,  and  it  presents  the 
gloomy  aspect  of  a  jail.  On  the  east  a  door  opens  into  a  small 
yard  or  court,  within  which  are  the  office  and  prison  of  the  police. 
A  few  long  flag-staffs,  fixed  on  the  roof  of  the  palace,  do  not  add 
to  the  beauty  of  the  edifice.  The  interior  of  the  building  cor- 
responds with  its  outward  appearance,  being  at  once  tasteless  and 
mean.  The  largest  apartment  formerly  bore  the  name  of  the 


*  In  these  shops  any  one  may  purchase  for  a  trifle  one  of  the  most  deadly 
poisons  (Strichnos  Ignatia,  L.).  It  is  made  up  into  what  are  called  Pepi- 
tas  de  Cabalonga.  It  is  used  in  Lima  for  poisoning  dogs. 


GOVERNMENT  PALACE.  53 

Sala  de  los  Vireyes.  It  is  now  used  as  a  ball  roam  when  enter- 
tainments are  given  by  the  government.  Under  the  Spanish  do- 
mination this  room  was  hung  round  with  portraits  of  the  vice- 
roys, the  size  of  life.*  The  series  of  vice-regal  portraits  from 
Pizarro  to  Pezuela,  forty-four  in  number,  completely  filled  the 
apartment  at  the  time  when  the  patriot  army  in  Lima  revolted, 
and  consequently  the  last  viceroy,  Don  Jose  de  la  Serna,  who 
owed  his  elevation  to  the  military  revolution,  could  not  have  a 
place  assigned  for  his  portrait  among  those  of  his  predecessors. f 
The  other  apartments  of  the  palace  are  small  and  inelegant. 
Some  of  the  rooms  are  used  as  government  offices. 

The  present  palace  was,  as  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  ascer- 
tain, built  about  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  In 
the  great  earthquake  of  1687  it  was  almost  totally  destroyed,  but 
it  was  subsequently  restored.  The  palace  which  Don  Francisco 
Pizarro  built  for  his  own  residence,  stood,  not  on  the  site  of  the 
existing  edifice,  but  on  the  southern  side  of  the  Plaza,  on  the 
spot  where  now  a  narrow  dirty  alley,  called  the  Callejon  de  peta- 
teros,  forms  a  communication  between  the  Plaza  and  the  Silver- 
smith's-street  (Calle  de  Plateros).  It  was  in  that  old  palace  that 
Juan  de  Herada,  the  friend  and  partisan  of  Don  Diego  de  Alma- 

*  This  highly  valuable  and  interesting  collection  of  portraits  is  now  re- 
moved from  the  palace  to  the  museum.  It  is  curious  to  mark  the  progres- 
sive changes  of  costume,  and  to  observe  the  various  physiognomies,  espe- 
cially if  we  reflect  on  the  history  of  the  men  whose  traits  denote  such 
striking  differences  of  character.  Almost  all  these  portraits  are  distin- 
guished by  an  air  of  tranquil  gravity  which  in  some  is  combined  with  true 
kingly  dignity,  and  in  others  with  an  expression  of  fierceness.  The  hand- 
somest head  of  the  whole  series  is  decidedly  that  of  Francisco  Pizarro. 
His  features  bear  the  stamp  of  manly  energy,  and  his  whole  countenance 
is  characterized  by  courage  and  candor.  The  nose  has  the  prominent 
Arabic  form,  and  the  forehead  is  high  and  expanded.  The  thick  beard, 
covering  the  mouth  and  chin,  gives  a  gloomy  and  resolute  character  to  the 
face.  In  this  series  of  portraits  there  is  one  representing  a  priest  with  the 
vice-regal  insignia. 

t  By  a  singular  coincidence,  the  title  of  Conde  de  los  Andes  (Count  of 
the  Andes)  was  conferred  on  La  Serna  by  King  Ferdinand  at  Madrid  on 
the  9th  of  December,  1824,  being  the  very  day  on  which  he  gained  the  bat- 
tle of  Ayacucho,  the  results  of  which  gave  the  Spanish  dominion  in  South 
America  its  death-blow. 


54  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

gra,  carried  into  effect  his  plot  against  Pizarro.  On  the  26th  of 
June,  1546,  the  viceroy  was  seated  at  table  with  a  party  of  his 
friends,  when  the  insurgents  surrounded  the  palace,  shouting 
"  Death  to  the  tyrants!"  Pizarro,  though  warned  of  his  danger, 
had  scarcely  time  to  seize  his  sword.  One  of  his  principal  offi- 
cers, Don  Francisco  de  Chavez,  was  killed  at  the  door  of  the 
apartment,  and  several  of  the  viceroy's  friends  and  servants  es- 
caped by  the  windows.  Among  others  who  attempted  to  save 
themselves  in  this  way  was  Pizarro's  counsellor,  Juan  de  Velas- 
quez. Only  on  the  previous  evening  this  man  had  been  heard 
to  declare  that  no  one  would  be  found  bold  enough  to  join  in  an 
insurrection  as  long  as  he  held  in  his  hand  his  staff  of  authority. 
This  declaration  was  in  a  certain  measure  verified,  for  Velas- 
quez, whilst  descending  from  the  window,  held  his  staff"  between 
his  teeth,  that  he  might  be  the  better  able  to  support  himself  with 
his  hands.  Martin  Pizarro,  together  with  two  noblemen  and  two 
pages,  were  the  only  persons  who  remained  faithful  to  the  vice- 
roy. The  latter,  with  the  bravery  of  a  lion,  made  a  long  stand 
against  his  assailants.  "  Courage,  brother !  Down  with  the 
traitors !"  exclaimed  Martin  Pizarro,  who,  the  next  moment, 
lay  dead  at  the  viceroy's  feet.  At  length  Pizarro,  exhausted  by 
his  efforts  to  defend  himself,  could  no  longer  wield  his  hitherto 
victorious  sword  :  he  was  overpowered,  and  one  of  his  assailants 
having  stabbed  him  in  the  throat,  he  fell,  mortally  wounded. 
With  his  last  faltering  accents  he  implored  the  aid  of  a  confessor ; 
and  after  losing  the  power  of  utterance  he  traced  with  his  finger, 
on  the  ground,  the  sign  of  the  cross,  kissed  it  repeatedly,  and 
breathed  his  last.  Such  was  the  sad  end  of  one  of  the  greatest 
heroes  of  his  age  ;*  a  man  guilty  of  many  crimes,  but  also  un- 
justly accused  of  many  of  which  he  was  innocent.  His  acts 
were  consistent  with  the  spirit  of  his  age,  and  were  influenced 
by  the  frightful  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed.  In 
short,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Pizarro  was  "  better  than  his 
fetne." 

The  west  side  of  the  Plaza  Mayor  is  occupied  by  the  Cabildo, 

*  The  above  particulars  are  collected  from  the  Historic,  del  descubrimi- 
ento  y  conguista  de  la  Provincia  del  Peru,  by  Augustin  de  Zarate. 


PALACE  OF  THE  INQUISITION. 


or  senate-house  (formerly  called  the  Casa  ConsistoriaT),  together 
with  the  city  jail,  and  a  row  of  houses  of  no  very  handsome  ap- 
pearance. The  south  side  is  filled  by  a  range  of  private  dwell- 
ing-houses, with  balconies  looking  to  the  Plaza.  The  houses, 
both  on  the  west  and  south  sides  of  the  square,  are  built  above  a 
colonnade,  in  which  there  are  numerous  shops. 

In  the  middle  of  the  Plaza  is  a  magnificent  bronze  fountain 
with  three  basins.  From  the  middle  basin  rises  a  pillar,  sur- 
mounted by  a  figure  of  Fame  spouting  the  water  from  her  trum- 
pet. In  the  other  two  basins  the  water  is  ejected  from  the  mouths 
of  four  lions.  The  pillar  and  figures  for  this  triple  fountain  were 
cast  in  the  year  1650,  by  the  able  artist  Antonio  Rivas,  by  order 
of  the  then  reigning  viceroy,  Count  de  Salvatierra.  Besides  this 
principal  fountain,  there  are  several  smaller  ones,  from  which 
the  public  are  permitted  to  supply  themselves  with  water. 

The  second  large  public  square  in  Lima  is  the  Plaza  de  la  In- 
quisition, which,  since  the  war  of  independence,  has  received  the 
name  of  the  Square  of  Independence  (Plazuela  de  la  Independen- 
cia).  It  is  of  trapezi-form,  widening  in  the  eastern  part,  and  is  cer- 
tainly no  ornament  to  the  town,  for  it  is  always  in  a  very  dirty 
condition.  Being  the  public  market-place,  it  presents  a  very 
busy  aspect  during  the  fore  part  of  the  day.  Two  buildings  on 
this  Plazuela  attract  attention,  viz. — the  Palace  of  the  Inquisition 
and  the  University.  There  are  now  but  few  remaining  traces 
of  the  internal  arrangements  of  the  fearful  tribunal ;  for,  on  the 
suppression  of  the  Inquisition  by  the  Cortes,  the  enraged  popu- 
lace forced  their  way  into  the  building,  where  they  gutted  the 
rooms,  and  destroyed  the  furniture.  Lima  was  the  seat  of  spirit- 
ual jurisdiction  for  the  whole  western  coast  of  South  America  ; 
and  the  rigor  of  its  despotism  was  not  far  short  of  that  of  the  In- 
quisition of  Madrid.  Every  year  vast  numbers  of  persons  con- 
victed or  suspected  of  crimes  were  brought  from  all  the  intervening 
points  between  Chiloe  and  Columbia  to  the  Tribunal  of  the 
Inquisition,  and  most  of  them  were  doomed  to  the  most  dreadful 
punishments.  Autos  da  fe  were  frequently  held  in  Lima,  and 
cases  of  other  kinds  of  martyrdom  were  exceedingly  numerous. 
The  lists,  which  have  been  only  partially  preserved,  present  me- 
lancholy results.  One  part  of  the  Palace  of  the  Inquisition  is 


56  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

now  converted  into  a  store-house  for  provisions,  and  the  other 
part  is  used  as  a  prison. 

The  University  of  Lima  was  once  the  most  important  seat  of 
education  in  South  America.  It  owes  its  origin  to  a  decree  of 
the  emperor  Charles  V.,  issued  at  the  solicitation  of  the  dominican 
monk  Maestro  Fray  Tomas  de  San  Martin.  The  decree. was 
dated  the  12th  of  May,  1551,  but  it  did  not  reach  Lima  until  two 
years  after  that  time.  A  papal  bull  of  Pius  V.  confirmed  the 
imperial  decree,  and  conferred  on  the  institution  the  same  privi- 
leges as  those  enjoyed  by  the  Spanish  university  of  Salamanca. 
The  Lima  university  was  originally  established  in  the  convent  of 
Santo  Domingo,  but  after  the  lapse  of  three  years  it  was  removed 
to  the  building  now  occupied  by  San  Marcel,  and  in  1576  it  was 
installed  in  the  site  it  now  occupies.  It  received  the  name  of 
Real  y  Pontificia  Universidad  de  San  Marcos.  In  the  year  1572 
the  first  lay  rector  was  elected  in  the  person  of  Gaspar  Menen- 
dez,  a  doctor  of  medicine. 

The  building  is  situated  on  the  east  side  of  the  Plaza  de  la  In- 
dependencia,  next  to  the  hospital  of  la  Caridad.  The  facade  is 
not  handsome,  but  is  remarkable  for  a  style  not  belonging  to  the 
age  in  which  it  was  erected.  The  building  is  entered  by  a  lofty 
door,  opening  into  a  spacious  quadrangular  court,  along  the  four 
sides  of  which  there  are  pillared  corridors.  On  the  walls  of 
these  corridors  the  different  branches  of  science  are  allegorically 
represented  in  fresco  paintings,  and  beneath  these  paintings  are 
inscribed  quotations  from  ancient  classic  authors.  The  lecture 
rooms  open  into  the  corridors  which  run  round  the  court.  Facing 
the  entrance  door,  in  the  left  angle  of  the  court,  are  great  double 
doors  opening  into  the  Aula,  which  is  spacious,  and  has  rather  an 
imposing  aspect.  In  the  middle  of  the  wall,  on  the  right-hand 
side,  stands  the  rector's  chair  in  a  sort  of  niche,  surmounted  by 
a  canopy.  On  either  side  of  this  chair  are  ranged  the  seats  of 
the  professors,  and  the  members  of  faculties.  Opposite  to  the 
rector's  seat,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  Aula,  is  an  elevated 
chair  occupied  by  the  president,  when  academic  prizes  are  distri- 
buted. Below  it  is  an  arm-chair  for  the  candidate.  On  each  side 
of  the  president's  seat  are  several  rows  of  benches,  for  the  mem- 
bers of  the  university  and  visitors.  Over  the  entrance  door  there 


PUBLIC  BUILDINGS.  57 


is  a  gallery  to  which  the  public  are  admitted,  and  which,  on  the 
occasions  when  prizes  are  distributed,  is  usually  occupied  by 
ladies.  On  the  walls  of  the  Aula  are  hung  portraits  of  celebrated 
learned  men. 

The  National  Library,  situated  near  the  convent  of  San  Pedro, 
was  founded  by  a  decree,  dated  the  28th  of  August,  1821.  The 
books  belonging  to  the  university  of  San  Marcos  formed  the  nu- 
cleus of  the  National  Library.  To  them  were  added  the  libra- 
ries of  several  of  the  monasteries,  some  sequestrated  works,  and 
the  collections  of  a  few  private  individuals.  Of  these  latter,  the 
most  considerable  was  the  collection  of  General  San  Martin,  and 
a  library  of  7772  volumes  bequeathed,  together  with  a  legacy  of 
a  thousand  dollars,  by  Don  Miguel  de  la  Fuente  y  Pacheco.  In 
November,  1841,  the  National  Library  of  Peru  contained  26,344 
printed  volumes,  432  manuscripts,  and  a  small  collection  of  maps 
and  copperplate  engravings.  It  is  particularly  rich  in  old  works 
on  religious  and  historical  subjects.  The  books  relating  to  the 
Conquest,  and  to  the  early  period  of  the  Spanish  dominion,  form 
in  themselves  a  complete  historical  series.  Of  modern  works 
there  are  but  few.  The  pecuniary  support  of  the  establishment 
is  very  inconsiderable.  The  government  exacts  from  it  the  import 
duty,  three  per  cent.,  on  European  books,  making  an  average 
annual  sum  of  400  dollars.  In  addition  to  this  the  salaries  of 
the  librarians  amount  annually  to  2794  dollars.  The  library  is 
open  to  the  public  every  day  (Friday  and  Sunday  excepted)  from 
eight  in  the  morning  till  one  in  the  afternoon,  and  from  four  in 
the  afternoon  till  six  in  the  evening. 

In  the  left  wing  of  the  same  building  is  the  museum,  contain- 
ing a  collection  of  objects  of  natural  history,  antiquities,  and 
other  curiosities.  This  collection  was  first  formed  in  the  year 
1826,  in  some  of  the  spare  rooms  of  the  palace  of  the  Inquisition, 
and  was  afterwards  removed  from  one  place  to  another,  until  at 
length  the  government  allotted  to  the  purpose  the  two  fine  apart- 
ments in  the  building  above  mentioned.  As  yet  the  establish- 
ment is  quite  in  its  infancy.  It  contains  nothing  of  scientific 
value,  and  but  for  the  series  of  historical  portraits  already  de- 
scribed, it  would  differ  but  little  from  the  collections  of  curiosities 
frequently  formed  by  amateurs,  in  which  all  sorts  of  heteroge- 
4* 


58  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


geous  objects  are  jumbled  together.  The  museum  of  Lima  bids 
fair  to  remain  for  some  time  to  come  on  the  footing  on  which  it 
was  when  I  saw  it,  for  the  establishment  has  no  funds,  save  a 
monthly  allowance  of  thirty-two  dollars,  and  out  of  that  scanty 
pittance  the  expense  of  fitting  up  the  rooms,  the  glass  cases,  &c., 
has  yet  to  be  defrayed.  The  museum  is  open  to  the  public  four 
days  in  the  week. 

Two  other  apartments  in  the  same  building  are  set  aside  for 
the  Academy  of  Design  (Academia  de  Debujo).  On  three  even- 
ings every  week  pupils  are  admitted  to  this  academy  to  receive 
gratuitous  instruction  in  drawing.  The  number  of  the  pupils 
amounts  to  between  80  and  100  ;  but  there  is  convenient  room 
for  200.  The  collection  of  models  and  drawing  copies  for  the 
use  of  the  students  is  but  indifferent. 

The  mint  is  situated  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Plazuela  de  la  Inde- 
pendencia.  It  was  founded  in  Lima  in  the  year  1565 ;  in  1572 
transferred  to  Potosi,  and  in  1683  removed  back  to  Lima.  For 
the  space  of  seventy  years  this  establishment  was  in  the  hands 
of  private  individuals ;  but  in  the  year  1753  the  Spanish  govern, 
ment  took  the  management  of  it,  and  erected  the  building  in 
which  it  is  still  located.  It  is  a  large  and  handsome  structure, 
but  very  defective  in  its  internal  arrangement.  Until  the  year 
1817  the  machinery  for  casting  was  worked  by  mules,  ninety-two 
of  those  animals  being  employed  daily.  Subsequently,  under 
the  direction  of  an  Englishman,  water-power  was  introduced,  by 
which  expense  was  diminished  and  time  saved.  A  few  years 
ago  a  French  merchant  made  an  arrangement  with  the  govern- 
ment for  the  use  of  a  complex  machine,  which  he  proposed  to 
bring  from  Europe.  The  machine  arrived,  but  by  an  unlucky 
fatality  it  proved  perfectly  useless.  For  the  space  of  four  years 
repeated  attempts  were  made  to  work  it,  but  in  vain ;  it  fulfilled 
none  of  the  required  conditions.  Its  faults  are  manifold,  and  it 
reflects  but  little  credit  on  the  person  by  whom  it  was  contrived. 
It  has  cost  no  less  than  250,000  dollars,  and  has  never  been  of 
the  least  use. 

In  the  mint  of  Lima  there  are  annually  cast  from  two  to  two 
and  a  half  millions  of  dollars,  which  yield  a  profit  of  from 
140,000  to  180,000  dollars,  out  of  which  are  paid  the  salaries  of 


THE  THEATRE. 


the  persons  employed.  Under  the  Spanish  government  these 
salaries  amounted  annually  to  48,906  dollars  ;  now  they  make, 
together  with  other  customary  outlays,  the  sum  of  85, 105  dollars. 

The  value  of  a  mark  of  silver  in  the  mint  is  8  dollars  4  reales ; 
that  of  a  mark  of  gold  is  144  dollars  4  reales.  The  standard 
worth  of  the  gold  is  21  carats ;  that  of  the  silver  20  grains. 

Next  to  the  arena  for  bull-fights,  situated  in  the  Plaza  firme 
del  Acho,  the  theatre  is  the  principal  place  of  public  amusement 
in  Lima.  The  first  theatre,  erected  in  the  year  1602,  was  situ- 
ated near  the  convent  of  San  Augustin,  in  the  street  which  still 
bears  the  name  of  "  Comedia  vieja."  It  was  destroyed  in  the 
earthquake  of  1630,  and  rebuilt  on  the  same  site.  In  1662  it 
was  pulled  down  to  make  room  for  a  new  street,  and  afterwards 
the  present  building  was  erected.  Its  external  appearance  is 
very  ugly  and  the  interior  is  not  much  better.  Before  the  or- 
chestra there  are  some  commodious  inclosed  seats  or  stalls.  The 
boxes,  which  are  completely  separated  one  from  another  by  par- 
titions, are  narrow  but  deep  :  the  smaller  ones  are  capable  of 
containing  eight  persons,  and  the  larger  ones  twelve.  In  the 
centre  of  the  first  tier  of  boxes,  and  fronting  the  stage,  is  the  go- 
vernment box,  which  occupies  the  space  of  two  of  the  others.  It 
contains  seats  for  the  prefect,  the  sub-prefect,  and  the  members 
of  the  Cabildo.  The  president's  box  is  likewise  on  the  first  tier, 
and  on  the  left  of  the  stage.  Adjoining  it  there  is  a  small  cabi- 
net, closed  on  the  side  next  the  pit  by  a  wooden  railing.  Into 
this  cabinet  the  president  retires  between  the  acts  of  the  perform- 
ance. The  stage  is  small,  and  the  scenery  very  indifferent. 

The  performances  are  for  the  most  part  wretched,  both  as  re- 
gards the  merit  of  the  pieces  and  the  talent  of  the  actors.  No- 
thing can  be  in  worse  taste  than  the  little  farces  called  saynetes, 
which,  according  to  Spanish  custom,  always  close  the  perform- 
ances, whether  the  principal  piece  be  a  tragedy  or  a  comedy. 
Common-place  intrigues  form  the  subjects  of  these  saynetes,  and 
their  dialogue  consists  of  vulgar  jokes.  They  are  altogether 
calculated  to  banish  any  gratifying  impression  which  might  by 
possibility  be  produced  by  the  principal  piece. 

For  some  years  past  a  company  of  Italians,  settled  in  Lima, 
have  given  operatic  performances  on  a  small  scale.  One  of 


60  TRAVELS   IN  PERU. 

them,  Signora  Pantanelli,  is  an  excellent  singer,  and  would  be 
heard  with  pleasure  even  in  Europe.  Some  other  members  of 
the  company  have  middling  talents,  but  the  rest  are  decidedly 
bad.  The  operas  performed  are  Giulietta  y  Romeo,  Parisina, 
Lucia  di  Lammermuir,  Marino  Faliero,  La  Sonnambula,  and  II 
Barbiere  di  Seviglia  :  these,  together  with  a  mutilated  Norma, 
and  a  much  curtailed  Semiramide,  form  almost  the  whole  reper- 
tory. Want  of  stage  room  is  an  obstacle  to  the  representation 
of  operas  demanding  grand  scenery  and  machinery.  The  cos- 
tumes are  for  the  most  part  exceedingly  elegant,  though  seldom 
historically  correct.  The  orchestra  is  defective,  and  ought  to 
be  much  improved,  to  give  satisfaction  to  a  public  passionately 
fond  of  music. 

But  if  the  inhabitants  of  Lima  are  great  lovers  of  music, 
dancing  has  no  less  powerful  attractions  for  them.  Though  the 
time  is  gone,  when  the  dress  of  any  opera-dancer  may  be  expect- 
ed to  reach  below  the  knee,  yet  the  drapery  of  a  Limanese  Terp- 
sichore appears  to  have  attained  even  an  ultra  degree  of  curtail- 
ment. The  representation  of  ballets,  properly  so  called,  is  not 
attempted ;  but  the  Bolero,  the  Fandango,  the  Cachucha,  and 
Don  Mateo,  are  favorite  and  often  repeated  performances. 

During  the  long  intervals  between  the  acts,  smoking  is  permitted 
in  the  pit  and  in  the  outer  court  of  the  theatre*  There  is  also  a 
plentiful  supply  of  very  bad  and  very  dear  refreshments. 

An  intolerable  annoyance  experienced  in  visiting  the  theatre 
at  Lima  is  caused  by  the  swarms  of  fleas  which  infest  every  part 
of  the  house,  but  most  especially  the  boxes.  Unfortunately,  this 
nuisance  is  irremediable,  and  the  visitor  must  be  blessed  with  a 
large  amount  of  endurance  who  can  patiently  sit  out  a  whole 
evening's  entertainments. 

Not  far  from  the  theatre  is  situated  the  circus  for  cock-fighting 
(Coliseo  de  gallos),  where  fights  (peleas)  take  place  daily.  The 
Coliseo  is  a  large  amphitheatre,  with  an  arena  in  the  middle. 
The  game-cocks  trained  for  this  sport  have  the  spur  removed 
from  the  right  foot  and  in  its  stead  is  substituted  a  small  sharp 
steel  blade,  curved  and  shaped  like  a  scythe.  One  or  other  of 
the  animals  is  frequently  killed  at  the  first  spring ;  and  when  that 
is  not  the  case  they  continue  fighting  until  they  die  of  wounds  and 


THE  CITY  WALL.  61 


exhaustion.  It  is  a  cruel  sport,  and  a  worthy  pendant  to  bull- 
fighting. The  first  Coliseo  was  erected  in  1762,  by  Don  Juan 
Garrial.  The  present  building,  in  the  Plazuela  de  Santa  Cata- 
lina,  is  a  very  handsome  structure,  and  Lima  may  fairly  boast  of 
possessing  the  finest  circus  for  cock-fighting  in  all  the  world. 

In  the  same  square  with  the  Cohseo  de  gallos  is  the  tennis- 
court,  a  spacious  area,  surrounded  by  high  walls.  It  is  not  now 
so  'much  resorted  to  as  formerly,  for  the  Creoles  are  not  so  fond 
of  tennis  as  the  Spaniards. 

A  beautiful  stone  bridge  unites  the  town  with  the  suburb  of 
San  Lazaro.  This  bridge  was  built  in  the  years  1638-1640, 
when  the  Marquis  de  Montes  Glares  was  viceroy  of  Peru.  The 
plan  was  designed  by  Fray  Geronimo  Villegas,  an  Augustine 
monk.  It  is  530  feet  long,  and  has  six  arches  rising  thirty-seven 
feet  above  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  foundation  of  the  piers 
is  composed  of  square  blocks  of  stone,  the  piers  themselves  are 
of  brick,  and  the  parapet  of  cemented  stone  work.  The  erection 
of  this  bridge  cost  400,000  dollars.  A  sufficient  proof  of  its 
strength  and  solidity  is  the  fact  that  it  survived  the  earthquakes 
of  1687  and  1746,  which  shattered  all  other  parts  of  Lima.  In 
the  earthquake  of  1746  the  first  arch,  on  which  stood  an  eques- 
trian statue  of  Philip  V.,  was  destroyed,  but  it  is  now  restored. 
It  has  on  one  side  two  towers,  with  a  dial  in  the  middle. 

The  city  of  Lima,  with  the  exception  of  a  portion  of  the  north 
side,  and  the  suburb  of  San  Lazaro,  is  surrounded  by  a  wall 
built  of  brick.  This  wall  was  constructed  in  the  year  1585, 
when  the  Duque  de  la  Plata  was  viceroy.  It  is  the  work  of  a 
Fleming,  named  Pedro  Ramon.  This  wall  is  between  eighteen 
and  twenty  feet  high.  Its  breadth  at  the  base  is  from  ten  to 
twelve  feet,  and  at  the  top  nine  feet.  It  does  not  therefore  afford 
sufficient  space  for  mounting  large  guns.  Along  the  whole  ex- 
tent of  the  wall  there  are  thirty-four  bastions.  In  the  year  1807, 
this  wall,  which  had  fallen  into  a  very  ruinous  condition,  was  re- 
paired by  order  of  the  viceroy  Abascal,  and  put  into  a  condition 
to  be  mounted  with  artillery.  On  each  side  commodious  path- 
ways were  made,  and  along  the  inner  side  powder  magazines 
were  constructed.  At  present  these  fortifications  are  in  a  state 
of  complete  dilapidation.  The  paths,  which  are  obstructed  by 


62  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


rubbish,  are  almost  impassable,  and  the  powder  magazines  are 
destroyed.  The  city  wall  of  Lima  has  nine  gates  (Portadas). 
Of  these,  six  only  are  now  open,  viz.,  the  Portadas  of  Maravil- 
las,  Barbones,  Cocharcas,  Guadelupe,  Juan  Simon,  and  Callao  ; 
the  three  others,  the  Portadas  of  Martinete,  Monserrat,  and  Santa 
Catalina,  are  walled  up.  At  every  one  of  the  open  gates  there 
are  stationed  custom-house  guards,  whose  chief  duty  consists  in 
preventing  the  smuggled  introduction  of  unstamped  silver  (plata 
de  pina).  In  the  direction  of  the  suburb  of  San  Lazaro,  the  city 
cannot  be  closed,  as  the  wall  does  not  extend  to  that  part.  Be- 
tween San  Lazaro,  and  the  high  road  to  Cero  de  Pasco,  is  the 
Portada  de  Guias  ;  this,  however,  is  not  properly  a  gate,  but  a 
small  custom-house.  In  this  direction  it  is  easy  to  gain  entrance 
to  the  city  from  the  river,  and  consequently  it  is  here  that  most 
of  the  contraband  silver,  brought  from  the  mountains,  is  smug- 
gled. 

Among  the  fortifications  of  Lima  may  be  included  the  pretty 
little  castle  of  Santa  Catalina,  situated  at  the  eastern  end  of  the 
city,  between  the  Portada  de  Cocharcas  and  the  Portada  de  Gua- 
delupe,  at  the  distance  of  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  city 
wall.  It  is  surrounded  by  rather  high  walls,  and  is  flanked  by 
two  bastions.  The  interior  of  this  citadel  is  very  well  arranged, 
and  is  kept  much  cleaner  than  such  places  usually  are  in  Peru. 
It  contains  stores  of  arms  and  barracks  for  the  artillery.  The 
largest  barracks  in  Lima  are  those  of  the  infantry,  Quartel  de 
Infanteria,  in  the  Colegio.  They  are  remarkable  for  want  of 
cleanliness,  and  like  most  of  the  public  buildings  in  this  interest- 
ing city,  going  fast  to  decay. 


THE  POPULATION.  63 


CHAPTER  V. 

Population  of  Lima — Its  diminution — Different  races  of  the  Inhabitants — 
Their  characteristics — Amusements — Education — The  women  of  Lima — 
Their  Costume— The  Saya  y  Manto — Female  domestic  life — Love  of 
dress— Beatas — Indians — Slaves — Bosales — Free  Creoles — Negroes — Ne- 
gresses— Black  Creoles — Their  varieties — Mestizos— Mulattoes— Palan- 
ganas — Zambos — Chinos — Foreigners  in  Lima — Corruption  of  the  Spanish 
language. 

PROCEEDING  from  the  shell  to  the  kernel,  we  will  now  take  a 
glance  at  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital  of  Peru :  first,  surveying 
the  native  in  his  fatherland,  and  next,  the  foreign  settler  in  his 
adopted  country. 

The  population  of  Lima  has  at  various  periods  undergone  re- 
markable fluctuations.  In  the  year  1764  the  number  of  the  in- 
habitants was  stated  to  be  54,000 ;  in  1810,  87,000 ;  in  1826, 
70,000 ;  in  1836,  54,600 ;  and  in  1842,  53,000.  Of  most  of 
these  estimates  I  entertain  some  degree  of  distrust,  as  they  are 
merely  founded  on  general  calculations,  and  are  not  the  results 
of  careful  numbering.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  the  population 
of  Lima  has  very  considerably  decreased  since  the  declaration 
of  independence.  This  is  sufficiently  proved  by  the  fact  that 
several  parts  of  the  city  are  now  totally  uninhabited :  the  houses 
falling  to  decay,  and  the  gardens  lying  waste. 

The  cause  of  this  diminished  population  is  easily  explained  by 
the  physical  and  political  condition  of  the  country.  Earthquakes 
have,  at  various  times,  buried  thousands  of  people  beneath  the 
ruins  of  their  own  dwellings ;  the  war  of  independence  was  at- 
tended by  vast  sacrifices  of  life  ;  banishment  and  voluntary  emi- 
gration have  removed  from  Lima  the  families  of  some  of  the 
principal  citizens ;  and  epidemic  disease,  the  natural  consequence 
of  defective  police  regulations,  has  swept  away  countless  multi- 
tudes of  the  inhabitants.  The  number  of  new  settlers  is  very 


64  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


inconsiderable  ',  and  for  several  past  years  the  number  of  deaths 
has  nearly  doubled  that  of  the  births.  There  appears  no  reason 
to  doubt  that  this  decrease  of  population  will  continue ;  because, 
as  will  presently  be  seen,  the  causes  to  which  it  is  assignable 
cannot  be  checked,  inasmuch  as  they  are  intimately  blended  with 
the  character  of  the  nation.  Most  of  these  causes  operate  not 
only  in  the  capital,  but  over  the  whole  country  •  indeed,  in  the 
latter  their  influence  is  in  some  instances  much  greater ;  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  interior  of  Peru  the  loss  of  life  attendant  on  the  war 
was  relatively  much  greater  than  in  Lima.  This  favored  coun- 
try, which  extends  from  the  3d  to  the  22d  degree  of  south  latitude, 
and  which  contained  at  the  time  of  its  conquest  by  the  Spaniards 
an  immense  population,  though  its  amount  is  not  known  with 
numerical  exactitude,  now  counts  only  1,400,000  inhabitants. 

In  the  tax  registers,  drawn  up  during  the  protectorate  of  Santa 
Cruz,  in  1836,  the  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lima  is  repre- 
sented as  follows : — 

Male.   Female.   Total. 

1.  White  Creoles  (being  the  descendants  of  foreign- 

ers, but  chiefly  of  Spaniards)  ...     9,423  10,170  19,593 

2.  Indians 2,561     2,731     5,292 

3.  People  of  Color  (mixed  races)      ....  11,771  12,355  24,126 

4.  Slaves 2,186     3,606     4,792 

5.  Ecclesiastics  (Lay  and  Monastic)          .         .         .        475        350        825 


In  all         ...  26,416  29,212  54,028 

From  the  above  it  appears  that  in  every  class  (No.  5  excepted) 
there  is  a  preponderance  of  females ;  and  that  on  the  whole  popu- 
lation of  54,628  individuals  there  is  a  surplus  of  2796  women. 
About  one  in  every  sixty-six  individuals  belongs  to  the  priest- 
hood. 

Possibly  in  no  other  place  in  the  world  is  there  so  much  variety 
of  complexion  and  physiognomy  as  in  Lima.  From  the  deli- 
cately fair  creole  daughter  of  European  parents,  to  the  jet  black 
Congo  negro,  people  of  every  gradation  of  color  are  setn  living 
in  intimate  relation  one  with  another.  The  two  extreme  classes 
— the  whites  and  blacks — are  as  distinct  in  character  as  in  color, 
and  of  either  of  those  it  is  no  difficult  task  to  give  an  accurate 


WHITE  CREOLES.  65 

portraiture.  But  it  is  different  with  the  mixed  races*  To  define 
their  characteristics  correctly  would  be  impossible,  for  their  minds 
partake  of  the  mixture  of  their  blood.  As  a  general  rule,  it  may 
fairly  be  said  that  they  unite  in  themselves  all  the  faults,  without 
any  of  the  virtues,  of  their  progenitors.  As  men  they  are  greatly 
inferior  to  the  pure  races,  and  as  members  of  society  they  are  the 
worst  class  of  citizens.  Here,  as  well  as  in  the  following  deline- 
ations of  the  different  races,  I  wish  my  observations  to  be  under- 
stood only  in  a  general  sense.  I  have  met  with  some  honorable 
exceptions ;  though,  unfortunately,  they  were  mere  solitary  lumi- 
naries, whose  transient  light  has  been  speedily  obscured  by  the 
surrounding  darkness. 

The  white  Creoles,  whoj  with  very  few  exceptions,  are  the  de- 
scendants of  Spaniards,  constitute  somewhat  less  than  a  third  part 
of  the  population  of  Lima.  They  are  slender  in  figure  and  of 
middling  height.  Their  features  are  strongly  marked,  their  com- 
plexions fair  and  pale,  and  their  hair  is  of  the  darkest  black. 
The  men  are  feeble  and  look  prematurely  old.  Their  counte- 
nances, though  not  devoid  of  dignity)  have  a  sort  of  sensual  ex- 
pression. They  are  effeminate,  and  disinclined  to  any  kind  of 
active  exertion.  If  they  ride  the  distance  of  ten  miles,  they 
think  they  have  performed  a  feat  of  heroism  worthy  to  be  recorded 
in  the  state  archives.  If  the  white  Creoles  are  inferior  to  the 
Spaniards  in  physical  organization,  they  are  no  less  beneath  them 
in  qualities  of  mind.  They  shrink  from  anything  that  demands 
intellectual  exertion.  In  short,  they  are  sworn  enemies  to  busi- 
ness of  every  kind,  and  those  who  are  obliged  to  work  for  their 
own  support,  make  choice  of  some  occupation  which,  like  that  of 
a  shopman,  affords  them  ample  time  to  smoke  cigars  and  to  gossip 
with  their  neighbors.  The  richer  classes  give  themselves  up 
wholly  to  idleness.  They  walk  about  and  visit  their  acquaint- 
ances, or  they  lounge  in  shops  or  at  the  corners  of  streets,  and 
in  that  manner  they  often  amuse  themselves  for  half  a  day. 
Those  who  are  owners  of  plantations  occasionally  ride  through 
them  to  receive  reports  from  their  mayordomos.  Their  afternoons 
are  usually  spent  in  the  Colised  de  gallos,  in  the  coffee-houses,  or 
at  the  gaming-table.  The  white  Creoles  are  as  passionately  fond 
of  gaming  as  the  Spaniards,  and  sums  equal  to  those  staked  at 


66  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  gaming-tables  of  Mexico  and  the  Havannah  are  daily  lost  and 
won  in  Lima.  Though  games  of  hazard  are  prohibited,  yet  they 
are  very  publicly  played,  and  it  is  only  now  and  then  that  the 
police  enforce  the  regulations  of  the  law  by  the  seizure  of  a 
bank. 

Gaming  in  Lima  is  carried  on  very  quietly,  and  the  most  de- 
termined gamblers  do  not  show  themselves  very  much  excited 
either  by  losses  or  winnings.  The  discovery  of  false  dice,  how- 
ever, creates  bitter  feelings  of  animosity,  which  not  unfrequently 
lead  to  assassination.  Of  this  I  knew  several  instances  when  I 
was  in  the  interior  of  the  country. 

The  intellectual  culture  of  the  white  Creole  of  Lima  is  exceed- 
ingly defective.  He  is  not  wanting  in  talent;  but  an  imperfect 
system  of  education  affords  him  no  .opportunity  for  the  develop- 
ment of  his  faculties,  and  innate  indolence  is  a  bar  to  his  self- 
improvement  by  study.  He  seldom  rises  above  the  level  of 
every-day  life,  and  is  ignorant  of  everything  beyond  the  boundary 
of  the  city,  or,  at  all  events,  of  the  province  in  which  he  was  born. 
I  have  often  been  amazed  at  the  monstrous  ignorance  of  so-called 
educated  Peruvians,  respecting  the  situation,  the  extent,  the  phy- 
sical formation,  and  the  productions  of  their  native  country. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Lima  has  been 
the  birthplace  of  several  white  Creoles,  whose  talents  and  learn- 
ing have  honorably  distinguished  them  from  the  rest  of  their 
countrymen.  For  example,  Don  Tomas  de  Salazar,  author  of 
the  "  Interpretaciones  de  los  Leyes  de  Indias."*  Don  Miguel 
Nunez  de  Rojas,  the  learned  Judge  of  Confiscations  in  the  Span- 
ish war  of  succession,  and  Don  Alonzo  Conde  de  San  Donas,  who 
in  the  reign  of  Philip  IV.  was  Spanish  Ambassador  at  the  Court 
of  France.  Among  those  eminent  in  literature  may  be  named 
Don  Pedro  de  la  Reyna  Maldonado,  and  the  poet  Don  Diego  Mar- 
tinez de  Rivera,  of  whom  Cervantes  in  his  "  Galatea"  says — 

Su  divina  ingenio  ha  producido 
En  Arequipa  eterna  Primavera.f 

Several  monks  distinguished  for  learning   have  been  white 

*  Interpretations  of  the  Indian  Laws. 

t  His  divine  genius  has  produced  eternal  spring  in  Arequipa. 


WOMEN  OF  LIMA.  67 


Creoles,  and  an  eminent  individual  of  that  race  was  Don  Hipolito 
Unanue,  the  author  of  the  "  Guide  to  Peru,"  and  "  Observations 
on  the  Climate  of  Lima,  and  its  Influence  on  organized  Beings, 
especially  Man  ;"*  a  Treatise  on  the  Cocoa-tree,  &c.  In  more 
recent  times,  Don  Mariano  Eduardo  de  Rivero  has  zealously  de- 
voted himself  to  the  study  of  natural  history  and  antiquities. 

But  in  spite  of  his  faults,  the  Lima  Creole  has  his  good  quali- 
ties. He  is  an  enemy  to  strong  drinks.  When  he  takes  wine  it 
is  usually  of  some  sweet  kind,  and  of  that  he  partakes  very  spar- 
ingly. A  white  Creole  in  a  state  of  intoxication  would,  indeed, 
be  a  rare  sight.  Not  so  in  the  interior  of  the  country,  where  the 
whites  are  remarkable  for  intemperate  drinking. 

Far  superior  to  the  men,  both  physically  and  intellectually, 
are  the  women  of  Lima.  Nature  has  lavishly  endowed  them 
with  many  of  her  choicest  gifts.  In  figure  they  are  usually 
slender  and  rather  tall,  and  they  are  especially  remarkable  for 
small,  elegantly  formed  feet.  Their  fair  faces,  from  which  the 
glowing  breath  of  the  tropics  banishes  every  trace  of  bloom,  are 
animated  by  large,  bright,  dark  eyes.  Their  features  are  pleas- 
ing— the  nose  being  well  formed,  though  in  general  not  small — 
the  mouth  invariably  adorned  with  two  rows  of  brilliant  white 
teeth,f  and  their  long  black  hair,  arranged  in  plaits,  falls  grace- 
fully over  the  bosom  and  shoulders.  Add  to  all  this  a  captivat- 
ing grace  of  manner  and  deportment,  joined  to  an  exceeding  de- 
gree of  gentleness  and  amiability,  and  it  will  be  readily  admitted 
that  the  Limena  is  a  noble  specimen  of  female  loveliness. 

At  home,  especially  in  the  summer  season,  the  ladies  of  Lima 
dress  lightly  and  even  negligently.  For  visiting,  or  going  to  the 
theatres,  they  adopt  the  French  fashion.  When  walking  in  the 
streets,  attending  church,  joining  religious  processions,  &c.,  they 
appear  in  a  very  singular  costume,  peculiar  to  Lima,  and  consist- 
ing of  two  garments  called  the  Saya  and  the  Manto.  Of  the 
saya  there  are  two  kinds.  The  one  called  the  Saya  ajustada,  was 

*  "  Guia  del  Peru."  "  Observaciones  sobre  el  clima  de  Lima  y  sus  influ- 
encias  en  los  seres  organizados  en  especial  el  hombre." 

t  The  women  of  Lima  clean  their  teeth  several  times  a  day  with  the  root 
called  Raiz  de  dientes  (literally  root  for  the  teeth),  of  which  they  keep  a 
piece  constantly  in  their  pocket. 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


formerly  in  general  use,  but  is  now  seldom  seen.  It  consists  of 
a  petticoat,  or  skirt  of  thick  stiff  silk,  plaited  at  top  and  bottom, 
in  small  fluted  folds,  drawn  very  close  together  at  the  waist  and 
widening  towards  the  ankles,  beneath  which  the  saya  does  not 
descend.  It  is  tight  to  the  form,  the  outline  of  which  it  perfectly 
displays,  and  its  closeness  to  the  limbs  naturally  impedes  rapid 
movement.  When  wearing  the  Saya  ajustada,  the  ladies  find  it 
no  very  easy  task  to  kneel  down  at  church,  and  at  the  termina- 
tion of  every  genuflexion,  they  are  obliged  to  twist  and  twirl 
about  for  a  considerable  time  before  they  can  again  stand  on 
their  feet.* 

The  other  description  of  saya  is  called  the  Saya  culepa,  or  the 
Saya  desplegada.  It  is  plaited  close  at  the  waist,  and  from  thence 
downwards  it  stands  out  like  a  hooped  petticoat.  This  sort  of 
saya  is  made  by  first  being  plaited  both  at  top  and  bottom  like  the 
Saya  ajustada ;  but,  afterwards,  the  lower  plaits  are  undone  to 
form  the  Saya  desplegada.  The  saya  is  always  made  of  some 
dark-colored  silk,  black,  green,  blue,  or  cinnamon  color. 

The  Manto  is  a  veil  of  thick  black  silk  fastened  by  a  band  at 
the  back  of  the  waist,  where  it  joins  the  saya.  From  thence  it 
is  brought  over  the  shoulders  and  head,  and  drawn  over  the  face 
so  closely  that  only  a  small  triangular  space,  sufficient  for  one  eye 
to  peep  through,  is  left  uncovered.  A  rich  shawl  thrown  over 
the  shoulders  conceals  the  whole  of  the  under  garment,  except 
the  sleeves.  One  of  the  small,  neatly-gloved  hands,  confines  the 
folds  of  the  manto,  whilst  the  other  holds  a  richly  embroidered 
pocket-handkerchief. 

At  first  sight  this  costume  has  a  very  singular  effect,  and  it  is 

*  It  is  related  that,  during  the  war  of  independence,  when  Lima  was  al- 
ternately in  possession  of  the  Patriots  and  the  Spaniards,  a  party  of  the 
latter,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  spirit  of  the  Limenos,  disguised  themselves 
as  Patriots  and  marched  to  the  vicinity  of  the  town.  On  their  approach  be- 
coming known,  a  great  number  of  persons  proceeded  from  Callao  to  the 
Alameda  to  meet  them.  Among  those  who  went  forth  to  welcome  the  sup- 
posed patriots  were  a  number  of  women  dressed  in  the  narrow  say  as  above 
described.  When  the  disguised  Spaniards  had  advanced  within  a  little 
distance  of  the  deceived  multitude  they  began  to  attack  them.  The  men 
saved  themselves  by  flight ;  but  the  women,  whose  sayas  impeded  their  mo- 
tion, were  unable  to  escape,  and  were  almost  all  killed 


FEMALE  COSTUME.  ,          69 

long  before  the  eye  of  a  foreigner  becomes  reconciled  to  it.  The 
narrow  saya  is  by  no  means  graceful ;  the  wide  saya,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  very  becoming,  and  sets  off  to  great  advantage  a 
good  figure  and  elegant  deportment.  When  I  first  arrived  in 
Lima  and  saw  the  ladies  closely  muffled  up  in  their  mantos,  and 
carrying  embroidered  cambric  handkerchiefs  and  nosegays  in 
their  hands,  it  struck  me  that  the  nuns  enjoyed  greater  freedom 
in  that  country  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world.  After  ves- 
pers, that  is  to  say  half-past  seven  in  the  evening,  the  police  regu- 
lations prohibit  any  woman  from  appearing  in  the  streets  dressed 
in  the  saya. 

As  this  garment  may  be  worn  over  a  dress  of  the  ordinary 
kind,  it  is  found  to  be  very  convenient,  inasmuch  as  it  saves  the 
trouble  of  a  careful  toilette.  During  short  visits  the  ladies  dc 
not  take  off  the  saya ;  but  when  making  long  visits  they  usually 
lay  it  aside. 

The  Saya  y  Manto  are  found  to  be  very  useful  auxiliaries  in 
the  numerous  intrigues  in  which  the  Limefias  frequently  engage. 

A  Tapada*  indulges  in  a  vast  deal  of  freedom  when  in  the 
streets,  and  scruples  not  to  make  satirical  observations  on  any- 
body or  anything  that  strikes  her  as  strange  or  ludicrous.  The 
veil,  or  manto,  is  sacred,  and  should  a  man  attempt  to  remove 
it  by  force,  he  would  run  the  risk  of  being  severely  handled  by 
the  populace. 

In  intrigues  of  gallantry  the  Saya  y  Manto  play  a  conspicuous 
part.  A  lady  has  been  known  to  arrange  an  assignation  with  a 
gentleman  in  the  street,  whilst  her  husband,  standing  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  few  yards  and  conversing  with  a  friend  on  some  mat- 
ter of  business,  has  little  suspected  that  the  Tapada  whose  grace- 
ful figure  he  admired,  was  his  own  faithful  better-half.  It  fre- 
quently happens  that  Dona  Mariquita  obliges  Dona  Merceditas, 
or  Dona  Panchita,  with  the  loan  of  her  saya,  for  the  purpose  of 
hood-winking  the  Argus-eyes  of  a  jealous  husband  ; — the  lady 
being  well  convinced  that  her  kind  friends  will  render  her  the 

*  A  Tapada  is  a  lady  closely  concealed  beneath  the  folds  of  her  veil  or 
manto.  The  term  is  derived  from  the  verb  tapar,  to  cover  or  conceal. 
Taparse  a  media  ojo,  is  said  of  a  lady  when  she  draws  her  manto  over  her 
face  so  as  to  leave  only  one  eye  or  rather  the  half  of  an  eye  uncovered.— T. 


70  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


like  service  in  similar  circumstances.  Sometimes  a  lady  may 
be  seen  in  an  old  tattered  saya,  such  as  scarcely  the  poorest 
female  might  be  expected  to  wear ;  but  the  costly  shawl,  the 
worked  pocket-handkerchief,  the  silk  stockings,  and  satin  shoes, 
betray  the  rank  of  the  Tapada,  and  plainly  denote  that  she  has 
sallied  forth  on  an  adventure.  It  is  difficult,  nay  almost  impos- 
sible, to  recpgnize  a  lady  thus  muffled  up.  The  one  eye  alone 
visible,  is,  as  may  be  supposed,  a  very  uncertain  token  of  iden- 
tity, and  the  figure  and  walk  may  be  easily  disguised. 

It  will  readily  be  supposed  that  these  concealments  sometimes 
occasion  mortifying  mistakes.  On  beholding  a  tall  slender  figure 
whose  symmetrical  contour  is  discernible  even  through  the  un- 
wieldy saya,  and  a  bright  dark  eye  beaming  beneath  the  folds  of 
the  manto,  one  may  be  induced  to  imagine  that  the  charms  of  a 
Hebe  are  concealed  beneath  the  disfiguring  garb.  But  how 
great  is  the  disappointment  when  an  accidental  movement  of  the 
manto  discloses  the  wide  mouth  of  an  ugly  mulatta  grinning 
from  ear  to  ear. 

Most  foreigners  who  marry  Limenas  stipulate  that  from  the 
time  of  betrothal,  their  wives  shall  no  longer  wear  the  saya  y 
manto.  The  condition  is  agreed  to ;  but  how  far  it  is  faithfully 
observed  the  husbands  best  know.  Many,  no  doubt,  lull  them- 
selves in  the  confidence  of  their  wishes  being  implicitly  obeyed  ; 
but  female  ingenuity  readily  devises  opportunities  for  deception. 
The  women  of  Lima  never  willingly  renounce  the  saya  y  manto, 
for  it  is  inseparably  associated  with  customs  to  which  they  are, 
heart  and  soul,  devoted. 

If  we  follow  the  Limefia  (the  white  Creole,  be  it  understood) 
into  the  retirement  of  domestic  life,  we  find  that  she  is  an  affec- 
tionate mother,  but  not  a  very  clever  housekeeper.  Every  lady 
has  at  her  command  a  great  many  more  domestics  than  are  neces- 
sary :  some  are  servants,  but  most  of  them  slaves.  The  esta- 
blishment usually  consists  of  a  cook,  a  nurse-maid,  one  or  two 
house-maids,  a  needle-woman,  several  men-servants,  and  a  little 
negro  or  Indian,  whose  chief  business  is  to  carry  a  carpet  behind 
his  mistress  when  she  goes  to  church.  These  servants  all  do  as 
they  please,  and  the  lady  of  the  house  concerns  herself  very  lit- 
tle about  the  indolence  which  her  want  of  vigilance  encourages. 


PASSION  FOR  DRESS.  71 

She  rises  at  a  late  hour,  and  having  dressed  herself  and  deco- 
rated her  hair  with  sprigs  of  jasmine  and  orange  blossom,  she 
takes  her  breakfast.  That  meal  being  ended,  she  goes  out  to 
make  visits.  During  the  sultry  hours  of  mid-day  she  reposes, 
either  by  swinging  in  a  hammock  or  reclining  on  a  sofa,  and 
meanwhile  smokes  a  cigar.  After  dinner  she  again  makes  visits, 
and  the  evening  is  spent  in  the  theatre,  on  the  plaza,  or  on  the 
bridge.  Some  few  ladies  employ  themselves  in  needle-work,  in 
which  they  are  often  most  accomplished  adepts ;  they  especially 
excel  in  embroidery  and  fancy  work ;  but  they  never  pursue 
these  employments  before  company. 

The  ladies  of  Lima  are  passionately  fond  of  music.  Most  of 
them  play  the  piano-forte  or  the  guitar,  and  also  sing ;  but  for 
want  of  good  instruction  neither  their  playing  nor  their  singing ' 
is  above  mediocrity.  Smoking  is  pretty  general  among  females, 
at  least  those  of  mature  age ;  but  they  indulge  in  this  practice 
only  in  their  own  apartments.  Of  late  years  the  custom  of 
smoking  has  been  on  the  decline  in  Lima,  in  proportion  as  it  has 
been  increased  on  the  continent  of  the  old  world.  Though  snuff- 
taking  is  prohibited  in  the  convents,  yet  the  nuns  practise  it  to  a 
great  extent.  They  use  an  exceedingly  fine  kind  of  red  snuff, 
which  has  the  effect  of  closing  the  breathing  passage  through  the 
nostrils,  and  of  producing  a  peculiar  nasal  tone  of  voice. 

With  the  ladies  of  Lima,  vanity  and  the  love  of  dress  appear 
to  have  reached  their  climax.  To  this  passion  for  persona1, 
adornment  they  sacrifice  everything.  Formerly,  when  none  but 
real  pearls  and  diamonds  were  worn,  many  a  lady  was  known  to 
have  ruined  her  husband  by  the  purchase  of  those  costly  articles ; 
now,  however,  thanks  to  French  mock  jewelry,  they  are  enabled 
to  bedeck  themselves  in  glittering  ornaments  at  trivial  expense. 
Another  of  their  passions  is  a  fondness  for  perfumes.  They  are 
continually  besprinkling  themselves  with  eau  de  Cologne,  esprit  de 
Lavande,  agua  rica,  or  mistura.  The  latter  is  a  fragrant  yellow- 
colored  water,  prepared  from  gillyflower,  jasmine,  and  flor  de 
mistela  (Talinum  umbellatum).  They  perfume  their  apartments 
daily  with  Sahumerios  (pastiles).  When  the  lady  of  the  house 
wishes  to  show  particular  attention  to  her  visitors,  she  offers  them 
perfumed  water,  dropping  it  into  the  bosoms  of  the  ladies,  and  on 


72  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  pocket-handkerchiefs  of  the  gentlemen.  Considering  their 
free  use  of  perfumes,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  fair  Limenas 
should  be  constantly  complaining  of  headache,  vertigo,  and  other 
nervous  ailments,  or,  to  use  their  own  phrase  (los  nervios). 

Above  all  things  the  Limenas  pride  themselves  in  the  excessive 
smallness  of  their  feet.  Whether  walking,  standing,  sitting, 
swinging  in  the  hammock,  or  reclining  on  the  sofa,  the  grand  ob- 
ject invariably  is  to  display  to  advantage  the  tiny  foot.  To 
praise  her  virtue,  her  intelligence,  her  wit,  or  even  her  beauty, 
would  be  less  complimentary  to  a  Limena  than  to  admire  the 
elegance  of  her  feet.  All  possible  care  is  taken  to  preserve  the 
small  form  of  the  foot,  and  the  Lima  ladies  avoid  everything  that 
may  tend  to  spread  or  enlarge  it.  Their  shoes  are  usually  made 
of  embroidered  velvet  or  satin,  or  of  very  fine  kid,  and  are  so 
exceedingly  small,  that  they  cannot  be  drawn  on  and  off  without 
difficulty.  It  is  usual  to  have  two  new  pairs  every  week,  and 
the  expense  of  a  lady's  shoes  not  unfrequently  amounts  to  two 
hundred  dollars  per  annum.  A  large  foot  is  a  thing  held  in  hor- 
ror by  the  Limenas  :  they  call  it  una  pataza  inglesa  (an  English 
paw).  I  once  heard  some  Lima  ladies  extolling  in  high  terms 
the  beauty  of  a  fair  European  ;  but  all  their  praises  ended  with 
the  words  :-— "  Pero  que  pie,  valgame  Dios  !  parece  una  lancha." 
(But  what  a  foot,  good  Heaven  !  It  is  like  a  great  boat.)  Yet 
the  feet  of  the  lady  alluded  to  would  not,  in  Europe,  have  been 
thought  by  any  means  large. 

Gourmanderie  is  one  of  the  evil  habits  of  the  female  inhabit, 
ants  of  Lima.  Between  meals  they  are  continually  eating  sweet- 
meats and  a  variety  of  things.  At  one  moment  they  order 
tamal*  next  omitas^  then  pan  de  chancay  (a  sweet  sort  of  bread), 
and  biscuits,  then  masamorita  morada,^.  or  frijoles  coladas,§ 
&c. ;  and  yet  dinner  is  partaken  with  as  hearty  an  appetite  as 
though  none  of  these  interludes  had  been  introduced,  Can  it  be 
matter  of  surprise  that  the  good  ladies  are  constantly  complain, 
ing  of  indigestion  and  mal  de  estomago  ? 

*  A  preparation  of  finely-bruised  maize  mixed  with  morsejs  of  pork.     It 
is  rolled  in  maize  leaves,  and  in  that  manner  served  up. 
f  Sweet  cakes  made  of  maize  and  raisins, 
t  A  syrup  made  from  the  pulp  of  fruit.         §  Preserved  peas  with  syrup. 


FEMALE  NAMES.  73 


In  the  interior  of  the  houses  cleanliness  does  not  extend  be- 
yond those  apartments  which  are  open  to  visitors,  namely,  the 
sola  and  the  cuadro.  The  other  rooms  of  the  house  frequently 
bear  more  resemblance  to  a  stable  than  a  human  habitation,  and 
their  condition  reflects  little  credit  on  the  domestic  habits  of  the 
female  inmates.  But  even  this  is  typical  of  the  national  charac- 
ter,— a  great  outward  show  and  little  inward  worth. 

At  first  a  stranger  is  struck  with  the  singularity  of  the  names 
of  many  of  the  women  of  Lima.  A  child  receives  the  name  of 
the  saint  or  of  the  festival  whose  celebration  falls  on  the  day  of 
its  birth.  Those  who  happen  to  come  into  the  world  on  the 
days  on  which  the  Romish  Church  celebrates  the  several  mani- 
festations of  the  Virgin  receive  the  most  extraordinary  names. 
For  example,  a  child  born  ori  the  anniversary  day  of  the  mani- 
festation to  St.  Francis  on  the  Snow  Mountain,  is  named  Nieves 
(snow).  Filar  (fountain-basin)  is  another  strange  name,  confer- 
red in  honor  of  the  manifestation  of  the  Virgin  at  the  Fountains 
in  Saragossa.  Then  there  are  Conceptions,  Natividads,  and 
Asuncions,  without  number.  A  girl  born  on  Candlemas-day  is 
named  Candelaria,  and  one  born  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  re- 
ceives the  name  of  Jesus.  The  singular  effect  of  these  names 
is  heightened  by  the  Spanish  custom  of  using  diminutives, 
formed  by  adding  to  the  name  the  particle  ito  or  ita,  the  former 
being  the  masculine,  the  latter  the  feminine.  It  may  be  readily 
imagined  that  a  foreigner  is  not  a  little  startled  on  hearing  a 
young  lady  called  Dona  Jesusita.  In  some  names  the  diminutive 
takes  a  form  totally  different  from  the  full  name  ;  as,  for  exam- 
ple, Panchita  for  Francisca,  Pepita  for  Josefa,  Conchita  for  Con- 
cepcion.  A  married  woman  does  not  take  the  family  name  of 
her  husband,  but  retains  her  own,  adding  to  it  her  husband's  name 
preceded  by  the  particle  de,  as,  for  example,  Dona  Maria  Juana 
Rodriguez  de  Salazar. 

On  attaining  a  certain  age,  the  Limenas  totally  alter  their 
habits  of  life.  When  their  beauty  fades,  and  they  cease  to  be 
the  objects  of  compliment  and  flattery  •  or  when  weary  of  an 
idle,  luxurious,  and,  in  too  many  instances,  a  no  very  virtuous 
ife,  they  betake  themselves  to  piety,  and  become  Beatas.*  The 

*  Literally  Bigots. 
5 


74  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Limena  who  thus  renounces  the  vanities  of  the  world  attends 
cnurch  two  or  three  times  every  day,  confesses  at  least  once 
every  week,  retires  during  Lent  to  a  house  of  penitence  ;  fasts, 
prays,  and  receives  the  visits  of  her  confessor,  to  whom  she  sends 
presents  of  sweetmeats  ; — and  should  the  holy  man,  as  is  usually 
the  case,  prefer  riding  to  walking,  she  shows  her  piety  by  giving 
him  the  use  of  her  Calesa  to  convey  him  from  place  to  place. 

The  women  of  Lima  are  gifted  by  nature  with  extraordinary 
natural  talent,  though  unfortunately  it  is  rarely  cultivated.  They 
possess  shrewd  and  penetrating  intelligence,  clear  judgment,  and 
in  general  very  just  views  on  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  Like 
the  women  of  the  southern  provinces  of  Spain,  they  are  remark- 
able for  quickness  and  smartness  of  repartee,  and  in  a  wordy 
contest  a  Limena  is  sure  to  come  off  triumphant.  They  have  a 
great  deal  of  decision  of  character,  and  a  degree  of  courage 
which  does  not  usually  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  female  sex.  In  these 
respects  they  are  infinitely  superior  to  the  timid,  spiritless  men. 
In  the  various  political  revolutions  of  the  country,  the  women 
have  often  taken  an  active,  and,  in  some  instances,  a  more  decided 
part  than  the  men. 

The  Indians  in  Lima  form  but  a  small  portion  of  the  popula- 
tion, being  about  5000  in  number.  Among  them  are  as  many 
emigrants  as  natives.  Most  of  the  former  are  from  the  moun- 
tainous districts,  and  but  few  are  from  places  on  the  coast.  Their 
character  is,  of  course,  much  modified  by  continual  intercourse 
with  the  whites ;  but  I  will  endeavor  to  describe  them  as  they 
show  themselves  in  their  original  purity,  marking  the  distinctions 
observable  between  the  Indio  Costeno  (the  Coast  Indian),  and  the 
Indio  Serrano  (the  mountain  Indian).  The  Indians  in  Lima  are 
active  and  industrious.  Many  of  them  are  shopkeepers,  and  by 
the  integrity  of  their  dealings  they  stand  on  a  footing  of  good 
credit  with  the  great  commercial  houses.  Those  who  are  em- 
ployed as  servants  are  less  remarkable  for  industry  and  honesty. 
They  are  reserved  and  suspicious ;  qualities  especially  observa- 
ble when  they  have  but  recently  emigrated  into  Lima.  They 
combine  personal  vanity  with  an  inconceivable  degree  of  dirti- 
ness. Their  intellectual  faculties  are  far  beneath  those  of  the 


SLAVE  POPULATION.  75 

white  Creoles,  of  whom  they  stand  in  a  degree  of  fear,  which  is 
not  easily  eradicated. 

At  a  former  period  there  existed  in  Lima  a  college  exclusively 
for  noble-born  Indians ;  and  the  eldest  sons  of  the  families  de- 
scended from  the  Incas,  when  they  wished  to  study,  were  received 
at  the  expense  of  the  State  into  the  College  of  San  Carlos ;  but 
since  the  declaration  of  independence,  all  the  privileges  enjoyed 
by  the  Indians  have  been  annulled. 

The  negroes  in  Lima  form  one-fifth  part  of  the  population. 
Their  number  amounts  to  upwards  of  10,000,  of  which  4800  are 
slaves.  Though  an  article  in  the  Charter  of  Independence  de- 
clares that  "  in  Peru  no  person  is  born  a  slave,"  yet  the  National 
Congress  has  on  various  occasions  thought  fit  to  deviate  from  this 
principle.  In  Huaura  it  was  decreed  that  children  born  in  sla- 
very shall  be  free  on  attaining  the  age  of  twenty-five,  and  the 
Congress  of  Huancayo  prolonged  the  period  to  fifty  years.  There 
are  no  new  importations  of  negroes  from  Africa,  for  an  article 
in  the  Charter  just  mentioned  sets  forth  that  "  every  person  who 
may  be  brought,  as  a  slave,  from  another  country  to  Peru,  is  free 
from  the  moment  when  he  sets  foot  on  the  soil  of  that  republic." 
Accordingly,  if  a  Peruvian  take  his  slave  with  him  on  a  journey 
to  Chile,  and  brings  him  back  again,  the  slave  may,  on  his  re- 
turn, claim  his  freedom.  The  only  exception  to  this  rule  refers 
to  runaway  negroes,  who,  even  after  years  of  absence,  may  be 
reclaimed  on  their  return.  The  value  of  slaves  is  not  so  high  in 
Peru  as  in  the  southern  states  of  North  America.  In  Lima,  the 
average  price  of  a  young,  strong,  and  healthy  negro  is  400  dol- 
lars ;  the  price  of  a  negress,  especially  a  Negra  de  Chavra  (ca- 
pable of  field  work),  is  100  dollars  higher.  The  value  of  those 
destined  for  domestic  service  depends  on  character  and  qualifica- 
tions. A  negress  who  is  a  good  cook  or  needlewoman,  is  of  course 
worth  more  than  a  negro  who  is  to  be  employed  as  a  water-car- 
rier or  a  footman.  In  the  plantations  their  value  depends  wholly 
on  health  and  strength. 

The  treatment  of  slaves  in  Lima,  especially  by  the  Creoles,  is 
exceedingly  mild,  and  generally  much  on  the  same  footing  as  the 
treatment  of  servants  in  Europe.  It  is  seldom  that  a  master  in- 
flicts severe  corporal  chastisement  on  a  slave.  If  the  latter 


76  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


requires  punishment,  he  is  sent  into  the  Panaderia  (the  bake- 
house) to  knead  the  dough  and  bake  the  bread,  which  work  they 
perform  under  the  supervision  of  a  Mayordomo,  who  is  usually 
a  hard  task-master.  Owing  to  the  heat  of  the  climate,  working 
in  the  Panaderia  is  more  feared  by  the  slaves  than  any  other 
kind  of  punishment. 

In  Lima  the  special  laws  for  the  protection  of  slaves  are  more 
favorable  to  them  than  the  similar  laws  of  any  other  slave  coun- 
try. The  slaves  bring  their  complaints  before  a  particular 
judge,  whose  business  it  is  to  protect  them  against  ill-treatment. 
A  slave  is  free  whenever  he  can  pay  the  sum  which  his  master 
demands  for  him, — which  sum,  in  disputed  cases,  is  fixed  by  legal 
decision.  The  slave  also  possesses  the  right  of  selling  himself  to 
another  master,  and  the  latter  may  pay  the  purchase-money  to 
the  former  owner,  who,  however  unwillingly,  is  obliged  to  con- 
clude the  bargain.  The  negroes  have  ample  opportunities  for 
saving  money.  They  are  permitted,  during  five  or  six  hours  of 
the  day,  to  work  for  themselves  ;  so  that  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years  they  may  with  ease  save  the  sum  requisite  for  purchasing 
their  independence.  But  in  general  they  spend  their  earnings 
in  mere  idle  enjoyments,  and  care  but  little  about  obtaining  their 
freedom.  As  slaves  they  are  provided  with  lodging,  food,  and 
clothing,  and  they  are  nursed  in  sickness  ;  but  as  soon  as  they 
become  free,  they  must  supply  all  these  wants  for  themselves ; 
an  undertaking  which  their  natural  indolence  renders  them  little 
inclined  to.  On  the  whole,  domestic  negroes  may  be  said  to  be 
willing  slaves  ;  it  is  possibly  different  with  those  employed  in  the 
plantations,  who  are  liable  to  harder  work  and  harsher  treatment. 
I  knew  an  old  negro,  who  had  hoarded  up  6000  dollars,  and  yet 
did  not  purchase  his  own  freedom,  though  he  had  paid  for  the 
liberation  of  his  children  and  his  two  sisters.  He  often  observed 
to  me,  that  he  should  not  be  half  so  well  off  if  he  were  free. 

The  negroes  brought  from  Africa,  who  are  called  Bosales,  are 
far  better  than  the  Creole  negroes.  In  physical  strength  they  are 
inferior  to  the  latter,  and  are  less  lively  ;  yet  they  are  patient, 
and  much  more  faithful  and  attached  to  their  masters  than  the 
Creole  negroes  born  in  Peru.  The  Bosales  all  have  a  certain 
degree  of  pride,  but  especially  those  who  are  of  princely  blood. 


NEGRO  COFRADIAS.  77 


A  gentleman  of  old  Spain  bought  a  young  negro  princess,  who 
not  without  the  greatest  difficulty  could  be  brought  to  perform  the 
duties  of  servitude.  When  she  was  directed  to  go  to  market, 
she  set  her  basket  down  on  the  ground,  and  signified  that  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  be  served,  and  not  to  serve.  Some  chastise- 
ment was  resorted  to,  with  the  view  of  compelling  her  to  do  the 
duty  allotted  to  her ;  but  in  vain.  Her  pride  and  obstinacy  re- 
mained unconquerable.  Sometimes  she  would  sit  for  hours 
gloomily,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  and  muttering  be- 
tween her  teeth,  in  her  broken  Spanish,  the  words,  "  Yo  davita  ! 
yo  davita  /"*  Then  suddenly  springing  up,  she  would  strike 
her  head  against  the  wall  until  she  became  almost  senseless. 
As  she  showed  a  fondness  for  the  children  of  the  family,  she  was 
relieved  from  household  work,  and  became  the  nursery-maid. 
In  that  way  she  discharged  the  duties  which  devolved  on  her 
with  the  most  touching  affection  and  fidelity  ;  but  she  never 
would  do  anything,  however  trivial,  which  she  considered  to  be 
menial  service,  and  her  master  and  mistress  were  reasonable 
enough  not  to  require  it. 

When  the  number  of  the  African  negroes  in  Lima  was  more 
considerable  than  it  now  is,  the  various  races  kept  together,  and 
formed  themselves  into  unions,  called  Cofradias.  They  used  to 
meet  together  at  regular  periods.  At  these  meetings  the  negroes 
of  princely  descent  were  treated  with  marks  of  respect  which 
they  could  scarcely  have  received  in  their  native  home. 
Speeches  were  delivered,  and  religious  ceremonies  performed ; 
whilst  music,  singing,  and  dancing,  revived  recollections  of  past 
happiness,  and  of  the  far-distant  native  land.  These  Cofradias 
were  also  conducive  to  philanthropic  ends  ;  for  when  a  slave  had 
a  hard  master,  the  sum  requisite  for  purchasing  his  freedom  was 
raised  by  a  general  subscription  in  the  union  to  which  he  be- 
longed. Since  the  independence  of  Peru,  and  the  consequent 
prohibition  of  the  importation  of  negroes,  the  Cofradias  have 
declined,  and  have  lost  much  of  their  original  character. 
Creoles  and  free  negroes  have  now  become  members  of  them. 
The  places  in  which  these  meetings  are  held  are  situated  in  the 

*  Meaning  Yo  esclavita  !  (I,  a  slave  !)  Esclavita  being  the  diminutive 
of  Esclava. 


78  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


suburb  of  San  Lazaro.  The  walls  of  the  rooms  are  painted  with 
grostesque  figures  of  negro  kings,  elephants,  camels,  palm 
trees,  &c. 

In  Lima,  and  indeed  throughout  the  whole  of  Peru,  the  free 
negroes  are  a  plague  to  society.  Too  indolent  to  support  them- 
selves by  laborious  industry,  they  readily  fall  into  any  dishonest 
means  of  getting  money.  Almost  all  the  robbers  who  infest  the 
roads  on  the  coast  of  Peru  are  free  negroes.  Dishonesty  seems 
to  be  a  part  of  their  very  nature  ;  and  moreover,  all  their  tastes 
and  inclinations  are  coarse  and  sensual.  Many  warm  defenders 
of  the  negroes  excuse  these  qualities  by  ascribing  them  to  the 
want  of  education,  the  recollection  of  slavery,  the  spirit  of  re- 
venge, &c.  But  I  here  speak  of  free-born  negroes,  who  are 
admitted  into  the  houses  of  wealthy  families,  who  from  their 
early  childhood  have  received  as  good  an  education  as  falls  to 
the  share  of  many  of  the  white  Creoles — who  are  treated  with 
kindness  and  liberally  remunerated,  and  yet  they  do  not  differ 
from  their  half-savage  brethren  who  are  shut  out  from  these 
advantages.  If  the  negro  has  learned  to  read  and  write,  and 
thereby  made  some  little  advance  in  education,  he  is  transformed 
into  a  conceited  coxcomb,  who,  instead  of  plundering  travellers 
on  the  highway,  finds  in  city  life  a  sphere  for  the  indulgence  of 
his  evil  propensities.  What  is  the  cause  of  this  incorrigible  tur- 
pitude of  the  negroes  ?  To  answer  this  important  question  is 
not  easy,  if  we  admit  the  principle  that  the  negro  is  as  capable 
of  cultivation  as  the  Caucasian  ;  and  in  support  of  it  the  names 
of  some  highly-educated  Ethiopians  may  be  cited.  Those ^who 
are  disposed  to  maintain  this  principle,  and  who  are  at  the  same 
time  intimately  acquainted  with  the  social  relations  of  the  coun- 
tries in  which  free  negroes  are  numerous,  may  solve  the  problem. 
My  opinion  is,  that  the  negroes,  in  respect  to  capability  for 
mental  improvement,  are  far  behind  the  Europeans,  and  that, 
considered  in  the  aggregate,  they  will  not,  even  with  the  advan- 
tages of  careful  education,  attain  a  very  high  degree  of  cultiva- 
tion ;  because  the  structure  of  the  negro  skull,  on  which  depends 
the  development  of  the  brain,  approximates  closely  to  the  animal 
form.  The  imitative  faculty  of  the  monkey  is  highly  developed 
in  the  negro,  who  readily  seizes  anything  merely  mephanical, 


MIXED  RACES.  79 


whilst  things  demanding  intelligence  are  beyond  his  reach. 
Sensuality  is  the  impulse  which  controls  the  thoughts,  the  acts, 
the  whole  existence  of  the  negroes.  To  them  freedom  can  be 
only  nominal ;  for  if  they  conduct  themselves  well  it  is  because 
they  are  compelled,  not  because  they  are  inclined  to  do  so. 
Herein  lie  at  once  the  cause  of,  and  the  apology  for,  their  bad 
character. 

The  negro  women  differ  but  little  from  the  men,  in  their  general 
characteristics.  They  are,  however,  more  active  and  industrious, 
and  better  tempered.  As  domestic  servants  they  are  superior  to 
the  mixed  races.  They  are  much  employed  as  nurses,  and  in 
those  situations  they  discharge  their  duties  well.  Their  personal 
vanity  is  boundless,  and  every  real  they  can  save  is  spent  in  dress 
and  ornaments.  It  is  amusing  to  see  them,  on  festival  days, 
parading  about  the  streets,  dressed  in  white  muslin  gowns  trimmed 
with  lace,  and  short  sleeves  displaying  their  black  arms.  Very 
short  petticoats,  seldom  extending  below  the  ankle,  serve  to 
exhibit  the  tawdry  finery  of  red  silk  stockings  and  light  blue 
satin  shoes.  From  their  ears  are  suspended  long  gold  drops,  and 
their  uncovered  necks  are  not  unfrequently  adorned  with  costly 
necklaces.  A  negress,  who  was  a  slave  belonging  to  a  family 
of  my  acquaintance,  possessed  a  necklace  composed  of  fine 
Panama  pearls,  worth  several  thousand  dollars.  The  pure  white 
of  the  pearls  was  wonderfully  heightened  by  the  contrast  of  the 
jet-black  skin  of  the  wearer  ;  and  for  this  reason  they  were  more 
ornamental  to  the  negress  than  they  would  have  been  to  the 
fairest  lady  in  Europe. 

Having  noticed  the  principal  races,  we  will  now  consider  the 
variegated  mass  of  people  of  mixed  blood,  who  in  Lima  form  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  population.  Stevenson*  gives  a  long 
list  of  these  mixed  races,  and  specifies  the  proportionate  degree, 
that  is  to  say,  how  many  eighths  or  sixteenths  of  black,  brown, 
or  white  color  belong  to  each.  But  these  data  respecting  tint  are 
fallacious,  for,  being  founded  solely  on  external  appearance,  they 
are  liable  to  endless  modifications.  Stevenson  falls  into  the  mis- 

*  Narrative  of  twenty  years'  residence  in  South  America,  by  W.  B.  Ste- 
venson. 


80  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


take  of  giving  to  the  children  of  a  negro  father  and  a  white  mo- 
ther, the  name  of  Zambos ;  whilst  to  the  offspring  of  a  white 
father  and  a  black  mother,  he  gives  the  name  of  Mulattos.  By  a 
similar  error,  he  terms  the  children  of  a  white  man  and  a  Cuar- 
terona,  Quinteros ;  and  to  those  of  a  Cuarteron  and  a  white 
woman,  he  gives  the  designation  Cuarterones.  It  is,  however, 
an  established  rule,  that  the  children  bear  the  designation,  denot- 
ing the  same  degree  of  mixed  blood,  whatever  may  respectively 
be  the  colors  of  the  parents.  Accordingly,  the  child  of  a  negro 
and  a  white  woman  is,  properly  speaking,  a  Mulatto ;  just  the 
same  as  though  the  relations  of  race  on  the  part  of  the  parents 
were  transposed.  When  a  man  of  mixed  blood  marries  a  woman 
darker  than  himself,  and  his  children  thereby  become  further  re- 
moved from  the  white  tint,  it  is  said  to  be  un  paso  atras  (a  step 
backwards). 

In  Europe  it  is  very  common  to  attach  to  the  term  Creole,  the 
idea  of  a  particular  complexion.  This  is  a  mistake.  The  de- 
signation Creole  properly  belongs  to  all  the  natives  of  America 
born  of  parents  who  have  emigrated  from  the  Old  World,  be 
those  parents  Europeans  or  Africans.  There  are,  therefore, 
white  as  well  as  black  Creoles.* 

The  subjoined  list  shows  the  parentage  of  the  different  varieties 
of  half-casts,  and  also  the  proper  designations  of  the  latter : — 

PARENTS.  CHILDREN. 

White  Father  and  Negro  Mother         .     .     Mulatto. 

White  Father  and  Indian  Mother     .         .     Mestizo. 

Indian  Father  and  Negro  Mother         .     .     Chino. 

White  Father  and  Mulatta  Mother  .         .     Cuarteron. 

White  Father  and  Mestiza  Mother  .  .  Creole  (only  distinguished  from 

the  White,  by  a  pale-brown- 
ish complexion). 

White  Father  and  China  Mother      .         .     Chino-Blanco. 

White  Father  and  Cuarterona  Mother      .     Quintero. 

White  Father  and  Quintera  Mother         .     White. 

*  The  term  Creole  is  a  corruption  of  the  Spanish  word  criollo,  which  is 
derived  from  criar  to  create  or  to  foster.  The  Spaniards  apply  the  term 
criollo  not  merely  to  the  human  race,  but  also  to  animals  propagated  in  the 
colonies,  but  of  pure  European  blood  :  thus  they  have  Creole  horses,  bul- 
locks, poultry,  &c. 


DESIGNATIONS  OF  HALF-CASTS.  81 

PARENTS.  CHILDREN. 

Negro  Father  and  Mulatta  Mother       .     .     Zambo-Negro. 

Negro  Father  and  Mestiza  Mother   .         .     Mulatto-Oscuro. 

Negro  Father  and  China  Mother          .     .     Zambo-Chino. 

Negro  Father  and  Zamba  Mother     .  Zambo-Negro  (perfectly  bl'k). 

Negro  Father  and  Cuarterona  or  Quintera 

Mother Mulatto  (rather  dark). 

Indian  Father  and  Mulatta  Mother  .         .     Chino-Oscuro. 

Indian  Father  and  Mestiza  Mother       .     .     Mestizo-Claro  (frequently  very 

beautiful). 

Indian  Father  and  China  Mother  .  .  Chino-Cholo. 
Indian  Father  and  Zamba  Mother  .  .  Zambo-Claro. 
Indian  Father  and  China-Chola  Mother  .  Indian  (with  rather  short  frizzy 

hair). 
Indian  Father  and  Cuarterona  or  Quintera 

Mother Mestizo  (rather  brown). 

Mulatto  Father  and  Zamba  Mother      .     .     Zambo  (a  miserable  race). 
Mulatto  Father  and  Mestiza  Mother  Chino   (of  rather   clear  com- 

plexion). 
Mulatto  Father  and  China  Mother        .     .     Chino  (rather  dark). 

Besides  the  half-casts  here  enumerated,  there  are  many  others, 
not  distinguished  by  particular  names,  as  they  do  not  in  color 
materially  differ  from  those  above  specified.  The  best  criterion 
for  determining  the  varieties  is  the  hair  of  the  women  :  this  is  far 
less  deceiving  than  the  complexion,  for  the  color  of  the  skin  is 
sometimes  decidedly  at  variance  with  that  characteristic  of  the 
race.  Some  of  the  Mulatta  females  have  complexions  brilliantly 
fair,  and  features  which,  for  regularity,  may  vie  with  those  of  the 
most  beautiful  women  of  Europe  ;  but  they  bear  the  unmistakea- 
ble  stamp  of  descent  in  the  short  woolly  hair. 

The  white  Creole  women  of  Lima  have  a  peculiar  quickness 
in  detecting  a  person  of  half-cast  at  the  very  first  glance ;  and  to 
the  less  practised  observer  they  communicate  their  discoveries  in 
this  way,  with  an  air  of  triumph ;  for  they  have  the  very  par- 
donable weakness  of  priding  themselves  in  the  purity  of  their 
European  descent.  Despite  the  republican  constitution,  there 
prevails  throughout  Peru  a  strong  pride  of  cast,  which  shows  it- 
self at  every  opportunity.  In  quarrels,  for  example,"  the  fairer 
antagonist  always  taunts  the  darker  one  about  his  descent.  By 
all  the  varieties,  the  white  skin  is  envied,  and  no  one  thinks  of 
disputing  its  superiority  of  rank.  The  Indian  looks  with  abhor- 

5* 


82  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


rence  on  the  Negro ;  the  latter  with  scorn  on  the  Indio.  The 
Mulatto  fancies  himself  next  to  the  European,  and  thinks  that  the 
little  tinge  of  black  in  his  skin  does  not  justify  his  being  ranked 
lower  than  the  Mestizo,  who  after  all  is  only  an  Indio  bruto.* 
The  Zambo  laughs  at  them  all,  and  says  "  if  he  himself  is  not 
worth  much,  yet  he  is  better  than  his  parents."  In  short,  each 
race  finds  a  reason  for  thinking  itself  better  than  another. 

In  the  commencement  of  the  present  chapter  I  made  the  obser- 
vation that  the  people  of  mixed  blood  unite  in  themselves  all  the 
faults  without  any  of  the  virtues  of  their  progenitors.  To  this 
general  remark,  however,  the  Mestizos  form  an  honorable  excep- 
tion. They  inherit  many  of  the  good  qualities  both  of  the  Whites 
and  the  Indians.  They  are  mild  and  affectionate.  Their  feel- 
ings are  very  excitable,  and  they  readily  perform  an  act  of  kind- 
ness or  generosity  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment — but  they  are 
irresolute  and  timid.  They  attach  themselves  affectionately  to 
the  Whites ;  but  they  are  not  partial  to  the  Indians,  whom  they 
regard  with  some  degree  of  contempt.  In  Lima  their  number  is 
less  considerable  than  in  the  interior  of  the  country,  where  whole 
villages  are  inhabited  solely  by  Mestizos.  In  those  places  they 
style  themselves  Whites,  and  hold  themselves  very  much  aloof 
from  the  Indians.  One  cannot  pay  them  a  better  compliment 
than  to  inquire  whether  they  are  Spaniards,  a  question  which 
they  always  answer  in  the  affirmative,  though  their  features  are 
plainly  impressed  with  the  Indian  stamp.  The  complexion  of  the 
Mestizos  is  usually  a  clear  brown ;  but  in  some  individuals  it  has 
a  very  dark  tinge.  Their  hair  is  sleek,  long,  and  very  strong. 
The  women  frequently  wear  their  hair  in  two  long  plaits  descend- 
ing nearly  to  the  knees.  The  men  are  strongly  made,  have 
marked  features  and  but  very  little  beard.  In  Lima  they  are 
chiefly  handicraftsmen  and  traders.  Most  of  the  hawkers  (Mer- 
cachifles)  in  Lima  are  Mestizos. 

The  Mulattos  differ  very  widely  from  the  Mestizos.  In  person 
they  are  less  strongly  made  ;  but  in  intellect  they  are  superior  to 
any  of  the  half-casts.  They  possess  a  very  great  aptitude  for 

*  A  brutish  Indian ;  a  favorite  expression  of  the  Limenos  when  speaking 
of  the  Indians,  who  certainly  do  not  merit  the  compliment. 


MULATTO  FEMALES. 


mechanical  employments,  great  dexterity  and  a  remarkable  de- 
gree of  imitative  talent,  which,  if  well  directed,  might  be  brilli- 
antly developed.  They  are  exceedingly  impressionable,  and  all 
their  feelings  are  readily  exalted  into  passions.  Indifferent  to  all 
but  sensual  enjoyments,  they  indulge  in  the  fleeting  pleasure  of 
the  present  moment,  and  are  regardless  of  the  future.  There  is 
a  certain  class  of  Mulattos,  who,  in  a  psychological  point  of  view, 
are  very  remarkable.  They  are  distinguished  by  the  nick-name 
of  Palanganas*  They  are  gifted  with  wonderful  memory,  and 
after  the  lapse  of  years  they  will  repeat,  word  for  word,  speeches 
or  sermons  which  they  have  heard  only  once.  With  this  extra- 
ordinary power  of  memory,  they  combine  a  fertile  fancy,  and  a 
boundless  share  of  self-confidence.  Wherever  there  is  anything 
to  be  seen  or  heard,  the  Palanganas  never  fail  to  attend,  and  they 
repeat  with  the  most  ludicrous  attitudes  and  gestures  all  that  they 
hear,  be  it  a  sermon  in  church,  a  speech  in  Congress,  or  an  ad- 
dress delivered  at  any  public  solemnity. 

The  Mulattos  now  study  theology  ;  for,  since  the  establishment 
of  independence,  the  Indian  law,  which  prohibited  any  person  of 
mixed  blood  from  entering  the  ecclesiastical  state,  is  no  longer 
observed.  Many  have  devoted  themselves  to  medicine ;  and 
most  of  the  physicians  in  Lima  are  Mulattos ;  but  they  are  re- 
markable only  for  their  ignorance,  as  they  receive  neither  theo- 
retical nor  clinical  instruction.  Nevertheless,  they  enjoy  -the 
full  confidence  of  the  public,  who  rank  the  ignorant  native  far 
above  the  educated  foreigner.  The  business  of  a  barber  is  one 
that  is  much  followed  by  the  Mulattos  of  Lima.  In  that  occupa- 
tion they  are  quite  in  their  element,  for  they  possess  all  the  quali- 
fications for  which  the  members  of  that  fraternity  are  distinguished 
in  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Among  the  Mulatto  females  many  are  remarkably  beautiful — 
though  they  are  always  wanting  in  that  oval  form  of  the  face 
which  is  the  first  condition  of  classic  beauty.  Their  countenances 
are  generally  round  and  broad,  their  features  strongly  marked, 


*  The  word  Palangana  signifies  a  wash-hand-basin ;  but  more  especially 
the  kind  of  basin  used  by  barbers.  Figuratively  the  term  is  used  to  desig- 
nate an  empty  babbler 


84  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


and  their  expression  impassioned.  Their  beauty  soon  fades; 
and  as  they  advance  in  lite  the  negro  character  of  their  features 
becomes  distinctly  defined.  Their  hair,  which  does  not  grow 
beyond  a  finger's  length,  is  jet  black  and  frizzy.  They  plait  it 
very  ingeniously  in  small  tresses,  frequently  making  more  than 
a  hundred.  Their  complexions  vary  from  white  to  dark-brown ; 
but  most  of  them  are  dark  brunettes,  with  large  black  eyes  and 
pearl-white  teeth. 

Their  vanity  is  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  Negresses,  but  it  is 
combined  with  a  certain  degree  of  taste,  in  which  the  latter  are 
wanting.  The  Mulatto  women  are  passionately  fond  of  music, 
singing  and  dancing.  They  play  the  guitar  and  have  pleasing 
voices,  but  their  singing  is  quite  uninstructed. 

The  Zambos  are  the  most  miserable  class  of  half-casts.  With 
them  every  vice  seems  to  have  attained  its  utmost  degree  of  de- 
velopment ;  and  it  may  confidently  be  said  that  not  one  in  a 
thousand  is  a  useful  member  of  society,  or  a  good  subject  of  the 
state.  Four-fifths  of  the  criminals  in  the  city  jail  of  Lima  are 
Zambos.  They  commit  the  most  hideous  crimes  with  the  utmost 
indifference,  and  their  lawless  propensities  are  continually  bring- 
ing them  into  collision  with  the  constituted  authorities.  In  moral 
nature  they  are  below  the  Negroes ;  for  they  are  totally  wanting 
in  any  good  qualities  possessed  by  the  latter.  Their  figures  are 
athletic,  and  their  color  black,  sometimes  slightly  tinged  with 
olive-brown.  Their  noses  are  much  less  flat  than  those  of  the 
Negroes,  but  their  lips  are  quite  as  prominent.  Their  eyes  are 
sunk  and  penetrating,  and  their  hair  very  little  longer  than  that 
of  the  Negroes,  but  curling  in  larger  locks.  The  men  have  very 
little  beard. 

The  Chinos  are  but  little  superior  to  the  Zambos.  Indeed,  in 
physical  formation  they  are  inferior  to  them,  for  they  are  small 
and  attenuated.  Their  countenances  are  hideously  ugly.  They 
have  the  Negro  nose  and  mouth,  and  the  Indian  forehead,  cheeks 
and  eyes.  Their  hair  is  black,  rough,  but  less  frizzy  than  that 
of  the  Mulattos.  They  are  deceitful,  ill-tempered,  and  cruel. 
They  never  forget  an  offence,  but  brood  over  it  till  an  opportu- 
nity, however  distant,  presents  itself  for  wreaking  their  vengeance. 
Thev  are  very  dangerous  enemies. 


FOREIGNERS  IN  LIMA.  85 

Respecting  the  half-casts  of  fairer  complexion,  especially  the 
Cuarterones  and  the  Quinteros,  there  is  but  little  to  be  said. 
Both  physically  and  morally  they  approximate  closely  to  the 
whites,  among  whom  they  almost  rank  themselves. 

The  majority  of  the  foreigners  in  Lima,  and  indeed  throughout 
the  whole  of  Peru,  are  the  families  of  the  Spaniards  from  Europe, 
who  emigrated  to  South  America  before  the  war  of  independence. 
Since  the  close  of  that  struggle  there  has  been  but  little  emigra- 
tion, as  the  circumstances  of  the  country  are  not  now  very  fa- 
vorable to  new  settlers.  The  old  Spanish  families  are  for  the 
most  part  landed  proprietors  or  merchants.  They  are  people  of 
very  temperate  habits,  but  they  are  passionately  fond  of  gaming, 
and  in  this  respect  they  have  bequeathed  a  dangerous  inheritance 
to  the  Creoles.  The  pride  and  mercenary  spirit  which  distin- 
guished the  Spaniards  before  the  independence  are  now  broken, 
if  not  entirely  subdued.  The  intercourse  between  them  and  the 
natives,  though  still  somewhat  constrained,  .is  every  year  becom- 
ing more  and  more  friendly,  as  the  privileges  enjoyed  by  the 
Spaniards,  which  were  a  continued  cause  of  hostile  feeling,  are 
now  removed. 

Next  to  the  Spaniards,  the  most  numerous  class  of  foreigners 
are  the  Italians.  These  are  chiefly  Genoese,  and  the  ma- 
jority are  run-away  sailors  and  adventurers.  They  usually  be- 
gin by  setting  up  a  Pulperia  (a  brandy  shop),  or  a  spice  shop, 
and  gradually  extend  their  traffic  until,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years,  they  amass  money  enough  to  return  to  their  native  coun- 
try. Some  of  them  make  good  fortunes  and  possess  extensive 
warehouses. 

The  French  in  Lima  occupy  the  same  positions  as  their  coun- 
trymen in  Valparaiso,  viz.,  they  are  tailors  and  hair-dressers, 
dealers  in  jewellery  and  millinery. 

The  English  and  North  Americans,  who  are  much  better  liked 
by  the  natives  than  the  French,  are  chiefly  merchants.  They 
are  the  heads  of  the  principal  commercial  houses,  as  Gibbs, 
Grawley  &  Co.,  Alsop  &  Co.  Templeman  and  Bergmann,  Huth, 
Cruning  &  Co.,  &c.  The  enterprising  spirit  of  the  English  and 
North  Americans  has  led  many  of  them  into  extensive  mining 


86  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


speculations,  which  in  some  instances  have  proved  very  unfortu- 
nate. 

The  Germans  in  Lima  are  proportionally  few.  They  are  dis- 
tinguished by  their  aptitude  for  business,  and  many  of  them  fill 
high  stations  in  the  great  English  commercial  houses.  They 
are  held  in  high  esteem  by  the  natives.  The  general  gravity  of 
their  manners  has  given  rise,  among  the  Limenos,  to  the  saying, 
"  Serio  como  un  Aleman  " — Serious  as  a  German. 

Settlers  from  the  other  American  republics  have  of  late  years 
considerably  increased  in  Lima.  After  the  Chilian  expedition, 
many  Chilenos  established  themselves  in  Peru,  and  numbers  of 
Argentines,  escaping  from  the  terrorism  of  Rosas  in  Buenos 
Ayres,  have  taken  refuge  in  Lima. 

Foreigners  being  in  general  more  industrious  and  more  steady 
than  the  Creoles,  the  Limenos  readily  form  connexions  with 
them.  The  ladies  generally  prefer  marrying  a  Gringo*  to  a 
Paisanito.-\ 

I  may  close  this  chapter  on  the  inhabitants  of  Lima,  with  some 
remarks  on  the  Spanish  language  as  spoken  in  the  capital  of 
Peru.  The  old  Spaniards,  who  brought  their  various  dialects 
into  the  New  World,  retain  them  there  unchanged.  The  Gali- 
cian  transposes  the  letters  g  and  j ;  the  Catalonian  adds  an  s  to 
the  final  syllables  of  words,  and  gives  a  peculiarly  harsh  sound  to 
the  letter  j  ;  the  Andalusian  rolls  the  r  over  his  tongue,  and  im- 
parts a  melodious  expression  even  to  harsh-sounding  words ;  the 
Biscayan  mingles  a  variety  of  provincialisms  with  his  own  pecu- 
liar dialect.  The  Madrileno  (native  of  Madrid)  prides  himself 
here,  as  well  as  in  Europe,  in  being  far  superior  to  the  rest  of 
his  countrymen  in  elegance  of  pronunciation.  The  Creoles, 
however,  have  gradually  dropped  the  characteristic  dialects  of 
their  progenitors,  and  have  adopted  new  ones,  varying  one  from 
another  in  the  different  South  American  provinces.  The  Span- 
ish language,  as  spoken  by  the  natives  of  Peru,  differs  widely 

*  Gringo  is  a  nickname  applied  to  Europeans.  It  is  probably  derived  from 
Griego  (Greek).  The  Germans  say  of  anything  incomprehensible,  "  That 
sounds  like  Spanish," — and  in  like  manner  the  Spaniards  say  of  anything 
they  do  not  understand,  "  That  is  Greek." 

f  Paisanito  is  the  diminutive  of  Paisano  (Compatriot) 


CORRUPTION  OF  LANGUAGE.  87 

from  the  correct  and  pure  model  of  pronunciation.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  the  coast  have  too  soft  an  accent,  and  they  frequently 
confound,  one  with  another,  letters  which  have  a  mutual  resem- 
blance in  sound.  On  the  other  hand,  the  people  who  dwell  in 
the  mountainous  districts  speak  with  a  harsh  accent,  and  very 
ungrammatically.  As  the  Swiss  force  out  their  guttural  tones 
from  the  lowest  depth  of  their  throats,  and  with  the  strongest  possi- 
ble aspiration,  so  do  the  Peruvians  of  the  Cordillera.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  sand  flats  of  North  Germany,  on  the  contrary, 
impart  a  ludicrously  soft  sound  to  the  harsher  consonants ;  and 
the  same  peculiarity  is  observable  in  the  people  who  inhabit  the 
coast  of  Peru. 

Of  all  the  inhabitants  of  Lima,  the  white  Creoles  speak  the  best 
Spanish ;  but  still  their  language  is  far  from  pure.  The  ladies 
in  particular  have  the  habit  of  substituting  one  letter  for  another 
in  certain  words;  for  example,  instead  of  pulso  (pulse)  they  say 
purso,  and  instead  of  salsa  (sauce)  they  say  sarsa.  In  other 
words  they  substitute  d  for  r,  saying  amod  for  amor,  cavalledo  fbi 
cavallero.  The  II  is  frequently  sounded  by  the  Peruvians  like  y, 
a  blunder  which  foreigners  are  also  very  apt  to  commit ;  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  word  polio  (chicken),  which  they  pronounce  as  if 
it  were  spelled  poyo,  and  gallina  (hen)  they  pronounce  as  if  spelled 
gayina.  Not  only  do  they  confound  single  letters,  but  they  fre- 
quently change  whole  syllables ;  as  for  instance,  in  the  word 
pared  (wall),  which  they  transform  into  pader.  The  name  of 
the  well-known  ex-President  Orbegoso  was,  by  two-thirds  of  the 
natives  of  Lima,  pronounced  as  if  written  Obregoso.  There  is  no 
word  in  the  Spanish-  language  beginning  with  an  s  followed  by  a 
consonant,  and  the  Limenos,  when  they  attempt  to  pronounce 
foreign  words  or  proper  names  commencing  in  the  manner  just 
described,  never  fail  to  prefix  to  them  the  letter  e.  I  know  not 
whether  in  the  schools  and  colleges  of  old  Spain  this  method  of 
prefixing  the  letter  e  is  adopted  in  teaching  Latin  ;  but  the  prac- 
tice is  universal  among  the  students  of  all  the  colleges  in  Lima. 
For  studium  they  say  estudium  ;  for  spurius,  espurius  ;  for  scele- 
ratus,  esceleratus,  &c. 

To  the  Limenos  the  correct  pronunciation  of  these  words  is 
extremely  difficult,  and  many  have  assured  me  that  they  find  it 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


impossible  to  omit  the  e  before  the  s.  Still  more  arbitrary  is 
their  conversion  of  h  into  k  in  the  words  mihi,  nihil,  &c.,  which 
they  pronounce  miki,  nikil. 

The  colored  Creoles,  who  are  generally  uneducated,  speak  the 
Spanish  language  much  more  corruptly  than  the  whites.  The 
Negroes  have  a  very  bad  accent.  Their  tongues  seem  quite  un- 
fitted for  the  pronunciation  of  the  Spanish  language,  which  many 
of  them  render  unintelligible  by  transposing  letters  and  lopping 
off  syllables. 


PRIMARY  SCHOOLS.  S9 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Primary  Schools — Colleges — The  University — Monks— Saints — Santo  Tori- 
bio  and  Santa  Rosa — Religious  Processions — Raising  the  Host — The 
Noche  Buena — The  Carnival — Paseos,  or  Public  Promenades — Ice — 
Riding  and  Driving — Horses — Their  Equipments  and  Training — Mules 
— Lottery  in  Lima — Cookery — Breakfasts,  Dinners,  &c. — Coffee-houses 
and  Restaurants — Markets — The  Plazo  Firme  del  JLcho — Bull  Fights. 

SCHOOLS  for  primary  instruction  are  numerous  in  Lima,  and 
upon  the  whole  they  are  tolerably  well  conducted.  There  are 
thirty-six  of  these  primary  schools,  public  and  private ;  twenty 
for  boys,  and  sixteen  for  girls ;  and  altogether  about  2000 
pupils*  receive  in  these  establishments  the  first  elements  of 
juvenile  instruction.  The  principal  public  institutions  of  this 
class  are  the  Normal  School  of  Santo  Tomas  (in  which  the  Lancas- 
terian  system  is  adopted),  and  the  Central  School  of  San  Lazaro. 
Each  contains  from  320  to  350  pupils.  Of  the  private  schools, 
some  are  very  well  conducted  by  Europeans.  The  College  of 
Nuestra  Senora  de  Guadalupe  was  founded  a  few  years  ago  by 
two  Spanish  merchants.  In  this  establishment  the  sons  of  the 
wealthier  class  of  people  may  receive  a  better  education  than 
they  can  obtain  in  the  public  schools.  There  are  three  Latin 
schools,  and  the  number  of  pupils  attending  them  amounts  to 
about  two  hundred. 

The  College  of  Santo  Toribio  is  exclusively  appropriated  to 
students  of  theology,  who  are  likewise  received  into  the  College 
of  San  Carlos,  though  the  latter  is  chiefly  destined  for  the  study 
of  jurisprudence.  San  Carlos  was  founded  in  the  year  1770  by 
the  Viceroy  Amat,  who  incorporated  with  it  the  previously  exist- 
ing Colleges  of  San  Martin  and  San  Felipe.  In  the  year  1822 

*  A  very  small  number  in  a  population  of  55,000. 


90  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  Colegio  de  Esquilache  was  likewise  united  to  San  Carlos, 
which  now  contains  about  a  hundred  students.  The  building  is 
large  and  commodious,  containing  spacious  halls,  a  fine  refectory, 
and  a  well-stored  library.  There  are  five  professors  of  law  and 
two  of  theology.  French,  English,  geography,  natural  philosophy, 
mathematics,  drawing,  and  music  are  likewise  taught  in  this  college. 
The  annual  revenue  of  the  establishment,  exclusively  of  the  fees 
paid  by  the  students,  amounts  to  19,000  dollars.  During  the  war 
of  emancipation,  this  establishment  for  a  time  bore  the  name  of 
Colegio  de  San  Martin,  in  honor  of  General  San  Martin,  the 
liberator  of  Chile ;  but  its  original  title  was  soon  restored. 

The  Colegio  de  San  Fernando  was  founded  in  1810  by  the 
Marques  de  la  Concordia,  for  students  of  medicine.  In  the  year 
1826  this  Institution  received  the  name  of  Colegio  de  la  Medecina 
de  la  Independencia,  a  title  which  it  justly  merits,  for  certainly 
medicine  is  taught  there  with  a  singular  independence  of  all 
rules  and  systems.  The  Professors,  who  themselves  have  never 
received  any  regular  instruction,  communicate  their  scanty  share 
of  knowledge  in  a  very  imperfect  manner  to  the  students.  The 
number  of  the  students  is  between  twelve  and  fifteen,  and  there 
are  two  Professors.  The  clinical  lectures  are  delivered  in  the 
Hospital  of  San  Andres,  to  which  an  anatomical  amphitheatre 
was  attached  in  1792.  The  heat  of  the  climate  renders  it  ne- 
cessary that  burials  should  take  place  within  twenty-four  hours 
after  death,  a  circumstance  which  naturally  operates  as  an  im- 
pediment to  the  fundamental  study  of  anatomy.  It  cannot  there- 
fore be  matter  of  surprise  that  the  native  surgeons  should 
have  but  a  superficial  knowledge  of  that  important  branch  of 
science. 

In  the  University  of  San  Marcos  no  lectures  are  delivered,  and 
the  twenty-five  Professors'  chairs  an3  merely  nominal.  Honors 
and  degrees  are  however  conferred  in  San  Marcos,  and  the 
same  rules  and  ceremonies  are  observed  as  in  the  Spanish  Uni- 
versities. In  the  departments  of  medicine  and  jurisprudence 
there  are  three  degrees ;  those  of  Bachelor,  Licentiate,  and 
Doctor.  In  former  times  the  dignity  of  Doctor  was  conferred 
with  great  pomp  and  solemnity,  and  the  public  were  admitted  in 
large  numbers  to  witness  the  ceremony.  The  acquisition  of  the 


MONKS  IN  LIMA.  91 


degree  of  Doctor  was  then  attended  by  an  expense  of  about  two 
thousand  dollars,  chiefly  expended  in  presents.  The  new  Doc- 
tor was  required  to  send  to  every  member  of  the  University, 
from  the  Bachelors  to  the  Rector,  a  new  dollar,  a  goblet  full  of 
ice,  and  a  dish  of  pastry. 

Lima  is  overrun  with  monks,  lay  and  conventual.  The  mo- 
nastic regulations  are  not  very  strict,  for  the  monks  are  permit- 
ted to  leave  the  convents  at  all  hours,  according  to  their  own 
pleasure.  They  avail  themselves  of  this  liberty  to  the  utmost 
extent.  Friars  of  various  orders  are  seen  in  the  streets  in  num- 
bers. Most  of  them  are  fat  Dominicans,  who  sit  in  the  Portales 
playing  at  draughts,  or  lounge  in  shops  staring  at  the  Tapadas 
as  they  pass  by.  Many  of  these  ecclesiastics  are  remarkable  for 
their  disregard  of  personal  cleanliness  ;  indeed  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  meet  with  a  more  slovenly,  ignorant,  and  common-place 
class  of  men.  They  frequent  all  places  of  public  entertainment, 
the  coffee-houses,  the  chichereas,  the  bull-fights,  and  the  thea- 
tres :  these  two  last-mentioned  places  of  amusement  they  visit  in 
disguise.  The  Franciscans  and  the  Mercenarias  are  little  better 
than  the  Dominicans ;  but  the  Descalzados  (barefooted  friars) 
lead  a  somewhat  more  strict  and  regular  life.  To  the  monks  of 
the  Buena  Muerte  belongs  the  duty  of  administering  the  last  con- 
solation to  the  dying.  Whenever  they  hear  of  any  person  who 
is  dangerously  ill,  they  hasten  to  the  house  without  waiting  till 
they  are  sent  for,  and  they  never  leave  the  invalid  until  he 
either  recovers  or  dies.  Day  and  night  they  sit  by  the  sick-bed, 
and  scarcely  allow  themselves  time  for  necessary  rest  and 
refreshment.  I  have  known  many  of  these  monks  who,  from 
long  experience  and  observation,  but  without  any  medical 
knowledge,  had  acquired  wonderful  shrewdness  in  determining 
the  degree  of  danger  in  cases  of  illness,  and  who  could  foretel 
with  almost  unfailing  certainty  the  moment  of  dissolution.  As 
soon  as  the  patient  has  breathed  his  last,  the  monk  utters  a  short 
prayer,  then  giving  the  corpse  a  knock  on  the  nose,  he  silently 
takes  his  departure.  I  have  frequently  witnessed  this  singular 
custom,  but  I  never  could  discover  its  origin  or  motive.  The 
habit  worn  by  the  monks  of  Buena  Muerte  is  black,  with  a  large 
red  cross  on  the  breast,  and  hats  with  high  conical  crowns. 


92  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Many  pious  natives,  or  inhabitants  of  Lima,  have  been  admit- 
ted among  the  number  of  the  saints.  Of  these  the  most  distin- 
guished was  the  Spaniard  Toribio,  who,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  filled  the  archiepiscopal  chair  hi  Lima.  His 
kindness  and  charity  have  become  proverbial,  and  his  many  acts 
of  benevolence  are  still  alive  in  the  recollection  of  the  people. 
Of  many  anecdotes  that  are  related  of  him,  I  may  here  quote 
one.  Late  one  night,  the  patrol  who  was  on  duty  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  archbishop's  palace,  met  a  man  in  the  street  carrying  a 
heavy  load  on  his  back.  The  challenge,  "  Who  goes  there  ?" 
was  answered  by  the  name  "  Toribio."  The  watch,  uttering  an 
oath,  impatiently  called  out  "  Que  Toribio  ?"  (What  Toribio  ?) 
"  El  de  la  esquina  !"  (He  who  dwells  at  the  corner !)  was  the 
simple  reply.  The  soldier  angrily  stepped  up  to  his  interlocutor, 
and,  to  his  astonishment',  recognized  the  archbishop,  who  was 
carrying  a  sick  person  to  the  hospital. 

The  saint  to  whom  the  Limenos  render  the  highest  honor,  is 
Santa  Rosa,  the  saint  of  the  city.  She  was  a  native  of  Lima, 
and  is  the  only  Peruvian  female  who  has  attained  the  honor  of 
being  ranked  among  the  saints.  On  the  30th  of  August,  the  fes- 
tival of  Santa  Rosa  is  celebrated  with  great  pomp  in  the  cathe- 
dral, and  her  image,  richly  bedecked  with  gold  and  jewels,  is 
carried  in  solemn  procession  from  Santo  Domingo  to  the  Sa- 
grario. 

Religious  processions  are  among  the  most  favorite  amusements 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Lima.  They  are  always  very  numerously 
attended ;  and  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  no  merry-making  would 
afford  the  Limenos  so  much  diversion  as  they  derive  from  these 
pious  solemnities.  Vast  numbers  of  ladies  join  the  processions 
as  Tapadas,  indulging  in  all  sorts  of  coquettish  airs,  and  with 
thoughts  evidently  bent  on  any  subject  but  religion.  The  gen- 
tlemen station  themselves  in  groups  at  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
to  admire  the  graceful  figures  of  the  Tapadas,  whose  faces  are 
concealed  ;  and  when  the  procession  has  passed  one  corner  they 
rush  to  another,  to  see  it  defile  a  second  time  ;  and  in  this  man- 
ner continue  moving  from  place  to  place,  as  if  they  could  never 
see  enough  of  the  interesting  spectacle.  The  most  brilliant  pro- 
cessions are  those  which  take  place  on  the  festivals  of  Corpus 


RAISING  THE  HOST.  £3 

Christi,  San  Francisco,  and  Santo  Domingo.  A  very  solemn 
procession  takes  place  on  the  28th  of  October,  the  anniversary 
of  the  great  earthquake  of  1746. 

Every  morning,  at  a  quarter  to  nine,  the  great  bell  of  the  ca- 
thedral announces  the  raising  of  the  host,  during  the  performance 
of  high  mass.  Immediately  every  sound  is  hushed  in  the  streets 
and  squares.  Coachmen  stop  the  carriages,  riders  check  their 
horses,  and  foot-passengers  stand  motionless.  Every  one  suspends 
his  occupation  or  his  conversation,  and  kneeling  down,  with  head 
uncovered,  mutters  a  prayer.  But  scarcely  has  the  third  solemn 
stroke  of  the  bell  ceased  to  vibrate,  when  the  noise  and  movement 
are  resumed  ;  the  brief  but  solemn  stillness  of  the  few  preceding 
moments  being  thus  rendered  the  more  impressive  by  contrast. 
The  same  incident  is  renewed  in  the  evening,  between  six  and 
seven  o'clock,  when  the  bell  sounds  for  the  Angelus  (Oraciones). 
The  cathedral  bell  gives  the  signal,  by  three  slow,  measured 
sounds,  which  are  immediately  repeated  from  the  belfries  of  all 
the  churches  in  Lima.  Life  and  action  are  then,  as  if  by  an 
invisible  hand,  suddenly  suspended  ;  nothing  moves  but  the  lips 
of  the  pious,  whispering  their  prayers.  The  Oration  being  ended, 
every  one  makes  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  says  to  the  person 
nearest  him,  Buehas  noches  (Good  night).  It  is  regarded  as -an 
act  of  courtesy  to  allow  another  to  take  precedence  in  saying 
"  Good  night,"  and  if  several  persons  are  together,  it  is  expected 
that  the  eldest  or  the  most  distinguished  of  the  group  should  be 
the  first  to  utter  the  greeting.  It  is  considered  polite  to  request 
the  person  next  one  to  say  Buehas  noches  ;  he  with  equal  civility 
declines  ;  and  the  alternate  repetition  of  "  diga  Vm."  (you  say  it), 
"  Not  Senor,  diga  Vm."  (No,  Sir,  you  say  it),  threatens  some- 
times to  be  endless. 

The  effect  produced  by  the  three  strokes  of  the  cathedral  bell 
is  truly  astonishing.  The  half-uttered  oath  dies  on  the  lips  of 
the  uncouth  negro ;  the  arm  of  the  cruel  Zambo,  unmercifully 
beating  his  ass,  drops  as  if  paralyzed  ;  the  chattering  mulatto 
seems  as  if  suddenly  struck  dumb ;  the  smart  repartee  of  the 
lively  Tapada  is  cut  short  in  its  delivery  ;  the  shopkeeper  lays 
down  his  measure  ;  the  artizan  drops  his  tool ;  and  the  monk 
suspends  his  move  on  the  draught-board  :  all,  with  one  accord, 


94  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


join  in  the  inaudible  prayer.  Here  and  there  the  sight  of  a  fo- 
reigner walking  along  indifferently,  and  without  raising  his  hat, 
makes  a  painful  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  people. 

Christmas-night  (Noche  buena)  is  a  great  festival  in  Lima.  The 
streets  and  squares,  especially  the  Plaza  Mayor,  are  crowded 
with  people,  amusing  themselves  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  Hundreds 
of  persons  take  their  seats  on  the  benches  of  the  Plaza  ;  there 
*  they  regale  themselves  with  sherbet,  ices,  and  pastry,  and  look 
at  the  dancing  of  the  negroes,  &c.  On  this  occasion  the  mid- 
night mass  is  performed  with  extraordinary  solemnity.  On 
Christmas-day  some  of  the  families  of  Lima  get  up  what  are 
called  Nacifiiientos,  consisting  of  symbolical  representations  of 
the  birth  of  the  Saviour.  On  some  of  these  shows  considerable 
expense  and  ingenuity  are  bestowed. 

In  Carnival  time  Lima  is  so  unpleasant  a  place  of  residence 
that  many  families  retire  to  the  country  during  that  season  of 
misrule.  One  of  the  favorite  sports  consists  in  sprinkling  people 
with  water ;  and  from  all  the  balconies  various  kinds  of  liquids 
are  thrown  on  the  passers-by.  Groups  of  Negroes  post  them- 
selves at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  where  they  seize  people,  and 
detain  them  prisoners,  until  they  ransom  themselves  by  the  pay- 
ment of  a  certain  sum  of  money.  Those  who  do  not  pay  the 
money  are  rolled  in  the  street  gutters,  and  treated  in  the  most 
merciless  way  ;  whilst  those  who  purchase  grace  escape  with 
having  a  few  handfulls  of  dirty  water  thrown  in  their  faces. 
Even  in  private  houses,  relations  and  intimate  acquaintances  are 
guilty  of  the  most  unwarrantable  annoyances.  Parties  of  young 
men  enter  the  houses  of  families  with  whom  they  are  acquainted, 
and  begin  sprinkling  the  ladies  with  scented  water.  That  being 
exhausted,  spring  water,  or  even  dirty  water,  is  resorted  to,  so 
that  what  began  in  sport  ends  in  reckless  rudeness.  The  ladies, 
with  their  clothes  dripping  wet,  are  chased  from  room  to  room, 
and  thereby  become  heated.  The  consequence  is,  in  many  in- 
stances, severe  and  dangerous  illness.  Inflammation  of  the 
lungs,  ague,  rheumatism,  &c.,  are  the  usual  results  of  these  car- 
nival sports,  to  which  many  fall  victims.  A  year  never  passes 
in  which  several  murders  are  not  committed,  in  revenge  for  of- 
fences perpetrated  during  the  saturnalia  of  the  carnival. 


ST.  JOHN'S  DAY.  95 


A  very  favorite  trick  adopted  in  carnival  time,  for  frightening 
people  as  they  pass  along  the  streets,  is  the  following  : — a  sack, 
filled  with  fragments  of  broken  glass  and  porcelain,  is  fastened 
to  the  balcony  by  a  strong  rope,  of  such  a  length  that,  when  sus- 
pended from  the  window,  the  sack  is  about  seven  feet  above  the 
street.  The  apparatus  being  all  ready,  a  mischievous  negress 
and  her  amita  (young  mistress)  watch  the  passers-by  until  they 
select  one  for  their  victim.  The  sack  is  then  thrown  over  the 
front  of  the  balcony,  and  a  deafening  crash  ensues,  though  the 
rope  prevents  its  contents  from  hurting  any  one.  It  is  well 
known  that  in  almost  every  street  in  Lima  there  is  at  least  one 
balcony  ready  prepared  for  the  performance  of  this  trick  ;  yet 
the  suddenness  of  the  crash  always  proves  a  shock,  even  to  the 
strongest  nerves.  People  start  and  run  to  one  side  of  the  street, 
and  are  sometimes  so  terrified  that  they  drop  down ;  then  loud 
laughter  and  jeering  remarks  are  heard  in  the  balcony.  Every 
year  this  trick  is  prohibited  by  the  police,  but  the  prohibition  is 
treated  with  contempt. 

One  of  the  most  popular  recreations  of  the  Limenos,  especially 
of  the  people  of  color,  is  the  Paseo  de  Amancaes,  which  takes 
place  on  St.  John's  Day.  The  Amancaes  is  a  gently  sloping 
plain,  about  half  a  mile  north-west  of  Lima,  and  it  is  bounded  by 
a  semicircular  range  of  hills,  which  rise  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  During  the  hot  months 
of  the  year  this  plain  is  a  parched  and  barren  waste  ;  but  when 
the  misty  and  rainy  season  sets  in,  the  Amancaes  is  covered 
with  numerous  flowers,  among  which  a  beautiful  yellow  lily  is 
conspicuous.  About  the  end  of  June  this  lily  is  in  full  bloom. 
On  St.  John's  Day  booths  and  stalls  are  fitted  up  for  the  sale  of 
various  kinds  of  refreshments,  and  throngs  of  people  of  all  class- 
es and  colors  are  seen  riding  or  walking  in  the  direction  of  the 
Amancaes.  There  they  amuse  themselves  with  dancing,  play- 
ing, eating,  drinking,  and  gathering  flowers ;  and  in  the  evening 
they  return  to  Lima.  It  is  amusing  to  see  the  Mulattas  and 
Zambas  with  bouquets  of  yellow  lilies  stuck  in  their  heads  and 
bosoms.  These  women  crowd  into  heavily-laden  vehicles,  be- 
side which  their  black  cavaliers  ride  on  horseback — all  laughing, 
jesting,  and  giving  vent  to  unrestrained  mirth.  From  the  24th 


96  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


of  June  to  the  end  of  October,  pleasure  parties  repair  on  Sundays 
and  festival  days,  either  to  the  Amancaes  or  to  the  Lomas.  The 
latter  is  a  range  of  hills  a  little  further  from  Lima. 

There  is  no  want  of  promenades  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city. 
Leading  from  the  Callao  gate  is  the  fine  long  avenue  of  trees  I 
have  already  mentioned.  In  the  suburb  of  San  Lazaro  there  is 
a  fine  broad  promenade  planted  with  trees,  called  the  alameda  vi- 
eja,  at  the  end  of  which  is  situated  the  Convent  of  the  Descalzos. 
Along  the  bank  of  the  Rimac  there  is  a  new  promenade  planted 
with  four  rows  of  trees,  called  the  alameda  nueva.  Behind  it  the 
Paseo  mititar,  with  two  rows  of  trees,  extending  as  far  as  Piedra 
lisa,  on  the  road  to  the  pleasant  village  of  Lurigancho.  On  the 
right  of  these  promenades  is  the  river,  on  the  left  the  pyramidal 
hill,  of  the  Cerro  de  San  Cristoval.  At  the  extremity  of  the  Ala- 
meda nueva  are  the  Puquio.*  These  baths  are  within  a  long 
low-roofed  building,  covered  on  the  top  with  straw  mats. 

On  summer  evenings  the  bridge  and  the  Plaza  Mayor  are  vis- 
ited by  throngs  of  promenaders  who  there  enjoy  the  refreshing 
breeze,  which,  after  sunset,  is  wafted  from  the  Cordilleras,  along 
the  surface  of  the  Rimac.  After  the  hour  of  the  Oradones 
(evening  prayers),  the  bridge  is  crowded  with  gentlemen,  who 
walk  up  and  down  whilst  the  ladies  sit  in  the  rotundas  built 
above  each  of  the  piers.  Long  rows  of  promenaders  are  seen 
moving  to  and  fro,  either  going  to  the  Alamedas,  or  returning 
from  thence  to  the  Plaza,  to  obtain  refreshments.  Before  the 
Portal  de  los  Escribanos,  on  the  Plaza  Mayor,  tables  are  laid 
out  with  lemonade,  almond  milk  and  ices.  The  promenaders 
sit  down  on  benches,  which  are  placed  round  these  tables,  and 
partake  of  refreshments,  none  of  which,  however,  are  so  delicious 
as  the  cool  breeze  after  the  sultry  heat  of  the  day. 

To  the  inhabitants  of  Lima,  ice  is  one  of  the  necessaries  of 
life  :  it  is  considered  so  indispensable,  that  a  scarcity  of  it,  during 
several  days,  would  be  sufficient  to  excite  popular  ferment,  In 
all  revolutions,  therefore,  the  leaders  carefully  avoid  calling  into 
requisition  the  service  of  the  mules  employed  in  the  transport  of 
ice.  It  is  obtained  in  the  Cordilleras,  at  the  distance  of  about 

*  Puquio  in  the  Quichua  language  signifies  springs. 


OMNIBUSES.  97 


twenty-eight  leagues  from  Lima.  The  Indians  who  ascend  the 
glaciers  break  the  ice  into  blocks  of  about  six  arobas  in  weight, 
which  are  lowered  by  ropes  down  the  declivity  of  the  mountain. 
The  women  and  children  then  cover  the  blocks  of  ice  with  Ichu 
grass  (Joara  ichu,  R.  P.),  after  which  they  are  drawn  by  another 
party  of  Indians  to  a  depot,  about  two  leagues  distant,  where  they 
are  packed  on  the  backs  of  mules.  Each  mule  carries  two 
blocks.  Thirty  mules  form  what  is  called  a  Recua,  which  daily 
proceeds  from  the  ice  depot  to  Lima.  At  intervals  of  two  or 
three  miles  there  are  stations  where  relays  of  mules  are  in  readi- 
ness. The  operations  of  unloading  and  reloading  are  performed 
with  the  utmost  possible  speed,  and  the  mules  are  driven  at  a 
brisk  trot,  wherever  the  roads  will  admit  of  it.  In  the  space  of 
eighteen  or  twenty  hours,  the  ice  reaches  Lima,  and  as  may  be 
expected,  considerably  reduced  in  weight  by  melting.  The 
average  loss  on  two  blocks  of  ice  is  about  one  hundred  pounds.* 
The  daily  consumption  of  ice  in  Lima  is  between  fifty  and  fifty- 
five  cwt.  About  two-thirds  of  that  quantity  is  used  for  preparing 
ices,  most  of  which  are  made  of  milk  or  pine-apple  juice.  Ice 
is  hawked  about  the  streets  of  Lima  for  sale,  and  all  day  long 
Indians,  carrying  pails  on  their  heads,  perambulate  the  streets, 
crying  helado.  :  ;'  f 

The  ladies  of  Lima,  when  they  make  visits,  seldom  go  on  foot. 
They  generally  ride  in  the  caleza,  a  very  ugly  kind  of  vehicle, 
being  nothing  more  than  a  square  box  raised  on  two  high  wheels, 
and  drawn  by  a  mule,  on  whose  back  a  negro  in  livery  is 
mounted.  Many  of  the  older  calezas,  instead  of  being  painted 
on  the  outside,  are  covered  with  variegated  paper.  The  calezin 
is  a  prettier  kind  of  carriage,  and  is  drawn  by  two  horses  or 
mules.  Taste  in  the  article  of  carriages  is,  however,  improving 
in  Lima,  and  several  very  elegant  ones  have  been  recently  intro- 
duced. 

Within  the  last  few  years  a  regular  line  of  omnibuses  has 
been  established  between  Callao  and  Lima.  From  each  of  those 

*  These  fine  blocks  of  ice  clearly  refute  the  assertion  made  by  some  travel- 
lers, that  the  first  real  glaciers  are  found  in  19°  S.  lat.  The  extensive  fields 
of  ice  from  which  the  blocks  in  question  are  brought  are  situated  in  11° 
14'  S.  lat. 

6 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


cities  an  omnibus  starts  daily,  at  eight  in  the  morning  and  at  four 
in  the  afternoon,  and  the  journey  occupies  an  hour  and  a  half. 
To  Miraflores,  Chorillos,  Lurin,  and  other  places  on  the  coast, 
the  conveyance  is  t>y  a  balanzin,  a  sort  of  caleza,  drawn  by  three 
horses  harnessed  abreast.  This  balanzin  is  one  of  the  most  awk- 
ward vehicles  ever  invented,  and  the  slightest  shock  it  sustains 
is  felt  with  double  force  by  the  persons  riding  in  it.  At  greater 
distances  from  the  capital,  the  want  of  proper  roads  renders  the 
employment  of  vehicles  a  matter  of  difficulty.  Even  along  the 
coast  to  the  south  of  Lima,  a  journey  of  about  forty  leagues -can- 
not be  accomplished  without  vast  difficulty  and  expense.  On 
such  a  journey  it  is  usual  for  a  train  of  sixty  or  eighty  horses  to 
accompany  the  carriage  ;  and  it  is  found  necessary  to  change 
the  horses  every  half-hour,  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  drawing  the 
carriage  through  the  fine  quicksand,  which  is  often  more  than  a 
foot  deep.  A  Peruvian  planter,  who  was  accustomed  to  take  his 
wife  every  year  on  a  visit  to  his  plantation,  situated  about  thirty- 
two  leagues  from  Lima,  assured  me  that  the  journey  to  and  fro 
always  cost  him  1400  dollars. 

During  the  brilliant  period  of  the  Spanish  domination,  incredi- 
ble sums  were  frequently  expended  on  carriages  and  mules. 
Not  unfrequently  the  tires  of  the  caleza  wheels  and  the  shoes  of 
the  mules  were  of  silver  instead  of  iron. 

In  Peru,  riding  is  a  universal  custom,  and  almost  every  person 
keeps  one  or  more  horses.  The  ladies  of  Lima  are  distin- 
guished as  graceful  horsewomen.  Their  equestrian  costume 
consists  of  a  white  riding-habit,  trowsers  richly  trimmed  with 
lace,  a  fine  white  poncho,  and  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat. 
Some  of  the  females  of  the  colored  races  make  use  of  men's  sad- 
dles, and  display  great  skill  in  the  management  of  the  most  un- 
ruly horses. 

The  horse-trappings  used  in  Peru  are  often  very  costly.  On 
the  coast  and  in  the  interior,  I  have  sometimes  seen  head-gear, 
bridle,  and  crupper,  composed  of  finely-wrought  silver  rings, 
linked  one  into  another.  The  saddle  is  frequently  ornamented 
with  rich  gold  embroidery,  and  the  holster  inlaid  with  gold.  The 
stirrups  are  usually  the  richest  portion  of  the  trappings.  They 
are  made  of  carved  wood,  and  are  of  pyramidal  shape ;  about  a 


EQUESTRIAN  EQUIPMENTS.  99 

foot  high  and  a  foot  broad  at  the  base.  In  front  and  at  the  sides 
they  are  close,  and  are  open  only  at  the  back  in  the  part  where 
the  foot  rests.  The  edges  are  rimmed  with  silver,  and  the  top 
of  the  stirrup  is  surmounted  by  a  bell  of  the  same  metal,  with  a 
ring  through  which  the  straps  are  passed.  A  priest  with  whom 
I  was  acquainted  in  the  Sierra,  got  a  saddle  and  a  pair  of  stirrups 
made  for  me.  The  silver  ornaments  on  the  stirrups  alone 
weighed  forty  pounds.  The  decorations  of  the  saddle  were  of 
corresponding  richness.  The  value  of  the  silver  on  both  saddle 
and  stirrups  was  about  1500  dollars.  The  spurs  used  in  Peru 
are  of  colossal  magnitude.  Old  custom  ordains  that  they  must 
contain  three  marks  (a  pound  and  a  half)  of  silver.  The  stir- 
rup-bow is  broad  and  richly  wrought ;  the  ornaments  being  either 
of  the  pattern  called  hueso  de  tollo,*  or  of  that  styled  hoja  de  laurel 
con  semilla.^  The  rowel  is  one  and  a  half  or  two  inches  in 
diameter,  and  the  points  are  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  inches 
long. 

In  the  bridle,  the  bit  and  the  snaffle  are  in  one  piece,  and  the 
reins  are  brought  together  by  being  passed  through  a  ring,  to 
which  the  long  riding- whip  is  also  fastened.  The  head-band  and 
reins  are  commonly  composed  of  narrow  slips  of  untanned  calf 
or  sheep-skin,  plaited  together,  and  ornamented  with  silver 
buckles.  The  saddle  is  short  and  narrow,  and  exceedingly  awk- 
ward to  riders  unaccustomed  to  it.  The  front  bolster  is  four  or 
five  inches  high,  and  inclines  backward  ;  the  hind  one  is  lower, 
and  is  curved  forward  in  the  form  of  a  half-moon ;  the  interven- 
ing space  just  affording  sufficient  room  for  the  thighs  of  the  rider, 
who,  in  a  saddle  of  this  construction,  is  so  firmly  fixed  that  he 
cannot  possibly  fall.  These  saddles  have,  however,  one  great 
disadvantage,  viz.,  that  if  the  horse  starts  off  at  a  gallop,  and  the 
rider  has  not  time  to  throw  himself  back  in  his  seat,  he  is  forced 
against  the  front  saddle-bolster  with  such  violence  that  some  fatal 
injury  is  usually  the  consequence.  Under  the  saddle  is  laid  a 
horse-cloth,  called  the  pellon,  about  a  yard  long,  and  a  yard  and 
a  half  wide.  The  common  sort  of  pellones  are  composed  of  two 

*  A  sort  of  arabesque  resembling  the  backbone  of  a  fish  called  the 
Tollo. 
t  Laurel  leaves  and  seed. 


100  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


rough  sheep-skins,  sewed  together.  In  the  finer  kind,  the 
raw  wool  is  combed  out,  and  divided  into  numberless  little  twists, 
of  about  the  length  of  one's  finger  ;  so  that  the  pellon  resembles 
the  skin  of  some  long-haired  animal.  The  finest  Peruvian  pel- 
lones  are  made  of  a  mixture  of  sheep's  wool  and  goat's  hair. 
Between  the  saddle  and  the  pellon  are  fastened  the  saddle-bags 
(alforjas),  which,  on  long  journeys,  are  filled  with  provisions  and 
other  necessaries.  These  bags  are  made  either  of  leather  or 
strong  woollen  cloth  ;  finally,  the  trappings  of  a  Peruvian  horse 
are  not  complete  without  the  halter  (haquima),  which  is  orna- 
mented in  the  same  manner  as  the  bridle.  The  halter-strap 
(cdbresto)  is  wound  round  the  front  bolster  of  the  saddle,  and  by 
it  the  horse  may  be  fastened  whenever  the  rider  alights,  without 
the  use  of  the  reins  for  that  purpose.  At  first  a  foreigner  is  apt 
to  regard  the  equipments  of  a  Peruvian  horse  as  superfluous  and 
burthensome ;  but  he  is  soon  convinced  of  their  utility,  and, 
when  the  eye  becomes  familiar  to  them,  they  have  a  pleasing 
effect. 

The  pure-bred  Peruvian  horse  is  more  elegantly  formed  than 
his  Andalusian  progenitor.  He  is  of  middling  size,  seldom'  ex- 
ceeding fourteen  hands  high.  He  has  a  strong  expanded  chest, 
slender  legs,  thin  pasterns,  a  short  muscular  neck,  a  rather 
large  head,  small  pointed  ears,  and  a  fiery  eye.  He  is  spirited, 
docile,  and  enduring.  It  is  only  in  a  few  plantations  that  the 
purity  of  the  race  is  preserved,  and  the  animals  fostered  with  due 
care.  The  common  horse  is  higher,  leaner,  less  broad  on  the 
chest,  and  with  the  crupper  thinner  and  more  depressed.  He  is, 
however,  not  less  fiery  and  capable  of  endurance  than  the  horse 
of  pure  breed.  The  most  inferior  horses  are  ill-looking,  small, 
and  rough-skinned. 

On  the  coast  of  Peru  the  horses  are  for  the  most  part  natural 
amblers,  and,  if  they  do  not  amble  naturally,  they  are  taught  to 
do  so.  There  are  several  varieties  of  amble  peculiar  to  the  Pe- 
ruvian horse  ;  the  most  approved  is  that  called  the  paso  llano. 
It  is  very  rapid,  but  not  attended  by  any  jolting  motion  to  the 
rider.  A  well-trained  horse  may  safely  be  ridden  by  a  young 
child  at  the  paso  llano  ;  the  motion  being  so  gentle  and  regular, 
that  the  rider  may  carry  a  cup  of  water  in  his  hand  without 


HORSES  IN  PERU.  101 


spilling  a  drop,  at  the  same  time  going  at  the  rate  of  two  leagues 
an  hour.  Another  variety  of  ambling  is  called  the  paso  portante. 
It  consists  in  the  fore  and  hind  foot  of  one  side  being  raised  simul- 
taneously, and  thrust  forward.  In  this  movement,  the  greater 
or  less  speed  depends  on  the  degree  in  which  the  hind  foot  is 
advanced  in  comparison  with  the  fore  one.  It  is  a  rapid,  rocking 
sort  of  motion,  and  for  long  continuance  is  much  more  wearying 
to  the  rider  than  the  common  trot,  as  the  body  cannot  be  held 
upright,  but  must  be  kept  in  a  constant  stooping  position.  The 
speed  of  a  good  ambler  in  the  paso  portante  is  so  great,  that  he 
will  outstrip  another  horse  at  full  gallop.  The  giraffe,  as  well  as 
the  Peruvian  horse,  has  this  peculiar  movement  naturally.  The 
paso  companero  is  merely  a  nominal  modification  of  the  paso  por- 
tante. Many  horses  have  no  paso  llano,  but  in  its  stead  a  short 
trot.  These  have  naturally  the  paso  portante,  but  they  are  little 
esteemed  for  travelling,  though  they  are  good  working  animals. 
They  are  called  cavallos  aguelillos.  Trotting  horses  cannot  be 
taught  the  paso  llano,  though  they  easily  acquire  the  paso  portante. 
These  are  called  cavallos  trabados. 

In  Peru  a  horse  is  valued  less  for  beauty  of  form  than  for  the 
perfection  of  his  amble.  The  finest  trotters  are  sold  at  very  low 
prices,  and  are  used  exclusively  as  carriage  horses.  If  a  horse 
when  spurred  has  the  habit  of  flapping  his  tail,  it  is  considered  a 
serious  fault,  and  greatly  depreciates  the  value  of  the  animal. 
This  vice  is  called  mosquear  (literally  brushing  off  the  mosqui- 
toes), and  the  Peruvians  cure  it  by  an  incision  in  the  muscle  of 
the  tail,  by  which  means  the  horse  is  disabled  from  making  the 
movement. 

The  Peruvians  take  very  little  care  of  their  horses.  The  re- 
mark, that  the  more  the  horse  is  tended,  the  worse  he  is,  would 
seem  to  be  a  generally  admitted  truth  in  Peru.  The  stable 
(coral)  is  either  totally  roofless,  or  very  indifferently  sheltered. 
In  the  mountainous  parts  of  the  country,  and  during  the  rainy 
season,  horses  are  frequently,  for  the  space  of  six  months,  up  to 
their  knees  in  mud,  and  yet  they  never  seem  to  be  the  worse  for 
it.  The  fodder  consists  of  lucern  (alfalfa),  or  maisillo,  which  is 
usually  thrown  down  on  the  ground,  though  sometimes  placed  in 
a  stone  trough,  and  the  drink  of  the  animals  consists  of  impure 


102  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


water  collected  from  the  ditches  at  the  road  sides.  Occasionally 
the  horses  are  fed  with  maize,  which  they  are  very  fond  of.  As 
no  oats  are  grown  in  Peru,  barley  is  given  together  with  rnaize, 
especially  in  the  interior  of  the  country.  Mares  and  geldings 
have  sometimes  the  hair  between  the  ears  cut  off  quite  closely, 
and  the  mane  arranged  in  short  curls,  which  gives  them  a  resem- 
blance to  the  horses  in  ancient  sculpture.  Mares  are  but  little 
valued,  so  little  indeed,  that  no  respectable  person  will  ride  one. 

The  horse-breakers  (chalanes)~a.re  generally  free  men  of  color. 
They  possess  great  bodily  vigor,  and  understand  their  business 
thoroughly ;  but  they  use  the  horses  very  cruelly,  and  thereby 
render  them  shy.  For  the  first  three  years  foals  are  suffered  to 
roam  about  with  perfect  freedom ;  after  that  time  they  are  sad- 
dled, an  operation  not  performed  without  great  difficulty,  and 
sometimes  found  to  be  impracticable,  until  the  animal  is  thrown 
on  the  ground  and  his  limbs  tied.  The  young  horse  under  the 
management  of  the  chalan  is  trained  in  all  sorts  of  equestrian 
feats,  especially  the  art  of  pirouetting  (voltear).  This  consists  in 
turning  either  wholly  or  half  round  on  the  hind  legs  with  great 
rapidity  and  when  at  full  gallop.  Another  important  object  of 
the  chalan  is  to  teach  the  horse  to  stop  short  suddenly,  and  to 
stand  perfectly  motionless  (sentarse)  at  the  signal  of  his  rider ; 
and  to  go  backward  (cejar)  for  a  considerable  space  in  a  straight 
line.  When  all  this  is  accomplished,  the  horse  is  regarded  as 
completely  broken  (quebrantado). 

As  an  instance  of  the  certainty  with  which  a  Peruvian  horse 
will  make  a  pirouette  (voltatd)  at  the  signal  of  his  rider,  I  may 
mention  the  following  fact,  which  occurred  under  my  own  obser- 
vation. A  friend  of  mine,  in  Lima,  rode  at  full  gallop  up  to  the 
city  wall  (which  is  scarcely  nine  feet  broad),  leaped  upon  it,  and 
then  made  his  horse  perform  a  complete  voltata,  so  that  the  fore- 
feet of  the  animal  described  the  segment  of  a  circle  beyond  the 
edge  of  the  wall.  The  feat  he  performed  several  times  in  suc- 
cession, and  he  assured  me  he  could  do  the  same  with  all  his 
horses. 

Peruvian  taste  requires  that  the  neck  of  the  horse  should  pre- 
sent a  finely-curved  outline,  and  that  the  mouth  should  be  drawn 
inward,  so  as  to  approach  the  breast.  The  horses  called  Cavattos 


PUBLIC  LOTTERIES.  103 


de  Brazo  are  much  esteemed.  At  every  step  they  describe  a 
large  circle  with  their  fore-feet,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  horse- 
shoe strikes  the  lower  part  of  the  stirrup.  This  motion  is  ex- 
ceedingly  beautiful  when  combined  with  what  is  termed  the 
"  Spanish  pace,"  in  which  the  noble  form  of  the  animal  and  his 
proud  bearing  are  advantageously  displayed. 

The  mule  is  a  very  important  animal  in  Peru.  The  badness 
of  the  roads  would  render  commercial  communication  imprac- 
ticable, were  it  not  for  mules.  The  Peruvian  mules  are  fine, 
strong  animals.  The  best  are  reared  in  Piura,  and  sent  to  Lima 
for  sale.  The  amblers  are  selected  for  the  saddle,  the  trotters 
for  harness,  and  the  rest  are  used  as  beasts  of  burthen.  The 
price  of  a  mule  of  middling  quality  is  one  hundred  dollars ;  a 
better  one  double  or  treble  that  price ;  and  the  very  best  may 
even  cost  ten  times  as  much.  The  endurance  of  these  animals 
under  fatigue  and  indifferent  nurture  is  extraordinary,  and  with- 
out them  the  vast  sand  plains  of  Peru  would  present  insuperable 
obstacles  to  intercourse  between  one  place  and  another.  In  the 
power  of  continuous  ambling  they  exceed  the  horses,  and  are  often 
equal  to  them  in  speed. 

In  Lima  there  is  a  public  lottery,  which  the  Government  farms 
to  a  private  individual,  for  a  considerable  sum.  The  tickets  are 
drawn  weekly.  The  price  of  a  ticket  is  one  real.  The  largest 
prize  is  1000  dollars ;  the  smaller  prizes  500,  250,  or  100  dollars. 
A  lottery  on  a  larger  scale  is  drawn  every  three  months.  The 
highest  prize  in  this  lottery  is  4000  dollars,  and  the  price  of  the 
ticket  is  four  reals.  To.  every  ticket  is  affixed  a  motto,  usually 
consisting  of  an  invocation  to  a  saint,  and  a  prayer  for  good  luck, 
and  at  the  drawing  of  the  lottery  this  motto  is  read  aloud  when 
the  number  of  the  ticket  is  announced.  Few  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Lima  fail  to  buy  at  least  one  ticket  in  the  weekly  lottery. 
The  negroes  are  particularly  fond  of  trying  their  luck  in  this 
way,  and  in  many  instances  fortune  has  been  singularly  kind  to 
them. 

"  Eating  and  drinking  keep  soul  and  body  together."  So  says 
the  German  proverb ;  and  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  take  a 
glance  at  the  Limenos  during  their  performance  of  these  two  im- 
portant operations.  The  hour  of  breakfast  is  generally  nine  in 


* 

304  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

the  morning.  The  meal  consists  of  boiled  mutton  (Sancochado), 
soup  (Caldo),  with  yuccas,  a  very  pleasant-tasted  root,  and  Chupe. 
This  last-mentioned  dish  consists,  in  its  simplest  form,  merely  of 
potatoes  boiled  in  very  salt  water,  with  cheese  and  Spanish  pep- 
per. When  the  chupe  is  made  in  better  style,  eggs,  crabs,  and 
fried  fish  are  added  to  the  ingredients  already  named ;  and  it  is 
then  a  very  savory  dish.  Chocolate  and  milk  are  afterwards 
served.  A  negress  brings  the  Chocolatera  into  the  breakfast-room, 
and  pours  out  a  cup  full  for  each  person.  The  natives  prefer 
the  froth  to  the  actual  beverage ;  and  many  of  the  negresses  are 
such  adepts  in  the  art  of  pouring  out,  that  they  will  make  the  cup 
so  overflow  with  foam,  that  it  contains  scarcely  a  spoonful  of 
liquid.  Chocolate  is  the  favorite  beverage  of  the  Peruvians.  In 
the  southern  parts  of  the  country  it  is  customary  to  offer  it  to 
visitors  at  all  hours  of  the  day.  The  visitor  is  no  sooner  seated 
than  he  is  presented  with  a  cup  of  coffee,  which  is  often  so  thick 
that  the  spoon  will  stand  upright  in  it.  It  would  be  a  breach  of 
politeness  to  decline  this  refreshment,  and  whether  agreeable  or 
not  it  must  be  swallowed  ! 

The  best  cocoa  is  obtained  from  the  Montanas  of  Urubamba, 
and  from  the  Bolivian  Yungas.  The  long  land  transport,  how- 
ever, renders  it  very  dear,  and  therefore  the  nuts  brought  from 
Guayaquil  are  those  commonly  used  in  Lima. 

Dinner,  which  takes  place  about  two  or  three  in  the  afternoon, 
commences  with  a  very  insipid  kind  of  soup.  This  is  followed 
by  the  Puchero,  which  is  the  principal  dish.  Puchero,  made  in 
its  best  style,  contains  beef,  pork,  bacon,  ham,  sausage,  poultry, 
cabbage,  yuccas,  camotes  (a  sort  of  sweet  potato),  potatoes,  rice, 
peas,  choditas  (grains  of  maize),  quince  and  banana.  When 
served  up,  the  different  kinds  of  meat  are  placed  in  one  dish,  and 
the  vegetable  ingredients  in  another.  I  was  at  first  astonished  at 
the  poorness  of  the  soups  in  Lima,  considering  the  quantity  of 
meat  used  in  preparing  them ;  but  I  soon  discovered  that  the 
SOUP  served  up  to  table  was  little  more  than  water,  and  that  the 
strong  gravy  of  the  meat  was  either  thrown  away  or  given  to  the 
negroes.  There  prevails  an  almost  universal  belief  that  the 
liquor  in  which  the  meat  is  first  stewed  is  injurious  to  health. 
Only  a  very  few  families  are  sufficiently  free  from  this  prejudice 


VARIOUS  DISHES.  105 


to  allow  the  strong  gravy  to  be  used  in  the  preparation  of  caldo, 
&c.  The  Puchero  is  an  excellent  and  nutritious  dish,  and  would 
in  itself  suffice  for  a  dinner,  to  which,  however,  in  Lima,  it  is 
merely  the  introduction.  Roast  meat,  fish,  vegetables,  preserves 
and  salad  are  afterwards  served.  Another  dish  not  less  indis- 
pensable to  a  Lima  dinner  than  puchero,  is  picante.  Under  this 
denomination  are  included  a  variety  of  preparations,  in  which  a 
vast  quantity  of  cayenne  pepper  is  introduced.  The  most  favorite 
picantes  are  the  calapulcra,  the  lagua,  the  zango,  the  charquican, 
the  adobas,  the  picante  de  ullucos,  &c.  The  calapulcra  is  com- 
posed of  meat  and  potatoes  dried  and  finely  pounded ;  the  lagua 
is  made  of  maize  flour  and  pork ;  the  zango,  of  the  same  ingredi- 
ents, but  differently  prepared  ;  the  adolas  consists  of  pork  alone  ; 
and  the  picante  de  ullucos  is  made  of  a  root  resembling  the  potato, 
cut  into  small  square  bits.  These  dishes,  though  much  too  highly 
seasoned  for  European  palates,  are  considered  great  dainties  by 
the  Limenos.  All  the  picantes  have  a  very  red  color,  owing  to 
the  quantity  of  cayenne  used  in  preparing  them;  the  achote 
grains,  which  are  also  used,  produce  a  beautiful  vermilion  tint. 
Another  dish,  common  on  the  dinner-table  in  Lima,  is  called 
ensalada  de  frutas.  It  is  a  most  heterogeneous  compound,  con- 
sisting of  all  sorts  of  fruits  stewed  in  water.  To  none  but  a 
Limanian  stomach  could  such  a  mixture  be  agreeable.  The 
dessert  consists  of  fruits  and  sweets  (dukes).  The  Limeno  must 
always  drink  a  glass  of  water  after  dinner,  otherwise  he  imagines 
the  repast  can  do  him  no  good ;  but  to  warrant  the  drinking  of 
the  water,  or,  as  the  phrase  is,  para  tomar  agua,  it  is  necessary 
first  to  partake  of  dulces.  The  one  without  the  other  would  be 
quite  contrary  to  rule.  The  dulces  consist  of  little  cakes  made 
of  honey  or  of  the  pulp  of  the  sugar-cane  ;  or  they  are  preserved 
fruits,  viz.,  pine-apple,  quince,  citron,  and  sometimes  preserved 
beans  or  cocoa-nut.  There  is  also  a  favorite  kind  of  dulce  made 
from  maize,  called  masamora. 

The  Peruvians  have  some  very  singular  prejudices  on  the  sub- 
ject of  eating  and  drinking.  Every  article  of  food  is,  according 
to  their  notions,  either  heating  (calwnte\  or  cooling  (frio) ;  and 
they  believe  that  certain  things  are  in  opposition  one  to  another, 
or,  as  the  Limenos  phrase  it,  se  oponen.  The  presence  in  the 
6* 


106  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


stomach  of  two  of  these  opposing  articles  of  food,  for  example, 
chocolate  and  rice,  is  believed  to  be  highly  dangerous,  and  some- 
times  fatal.  It  is  amusing  to  observe  the  Limeiios  when  at  dia- 
ner,  seriously  reflecting,  before  they  taste  a  particular  dish, 
whether  it  is  in  opposition  to  something  they  have  already  eaten. 
If  they  eat  rice  at  dinner,  they  refrain  from  drinking  water,  be- 
cause the  two  things  se  oponen.  To  such  an  extreme  is  this  no- 
tion carried,  that  they  will  not  taste  rice  on  days  when  they  have 
to  wash,  and  laundresses  never  eat  it.  Frequently  have  I  been 
asked  by  invalids  whether  it  would  be  safe  for  them  to  take  a 
foot-bath  on  going  to  bed,  as  they  had  eaten  rice  at  dinner ! 

The  white  Creoles,  as  well  as  all  the  superior  class  of  people 
in  Lima,  are  exceedingly  temperate  in  drinking.  Water  and  a 
kind  of  sweet  wine  are  their  favorite  beverage ;  but  the  lower 
classes  and  the  people  of  color  are  by  no  means  so  abstemious. 
They  make  free  use  of  fermented  drinks,  especially  brandy, 
chicha,  and  guarapo.  The  brandy  of  Peru  is  very  pure,  and  is 
prepared  exclusively  from  the  grape.  On  the  warm  sea  coast, 
the  use  of  this  liquor  is  not  very  injurious ;  there,  its  evil  effects 
are  counteracted  by  profuse  perspiration.  But  one  half  the 
quantity  that  may  be  drunk  with  impunity  on  the  coast,  will  be 
very  pernicious  in  the  cool  mountainous  regions.  An  old  and 
very  just  maxim  of  the  Jesuits  is,  "  En  pais  caliente,  aguardiente  ; 
en  pais  frio,  aguafria  "  (in  the  warm  country,  brandy ;  in  the 
cold  country,  water). 

Guarapo  is  a  fermented  liquor,  made  of  sugar-cane  pulp  and 
water.  It  is  a  very  favorite  beverage  of  the  negroes.  There 
are  several  kinds  of  guarapo.  The  best  sorts  are  tolerably  agree- 
able. Chicha  is  a  sort  of  beer  prepared  from  maize.  The  seeds 
of  the  maize  are  watered  and  left  until  they  begin  to  sprout,  after 
which  they  are  dried  in  the  sun.  When  sufficiently  dry  they 
are  crushed,  boiled  in  water,  and  then  allowed  to  stand  till  fer- 
mentation takes  place.  The  liquid  is  of  a  dark  yellow  color, 
and  has  a  slightly  bitter  and  sharp  taste.  Chicha  is  likewise 
made  from  rice,  peas,  barley,  yuccas,  pine-apples,  and  even  bread. 
The  kind  most  generally  used  is  that  made  from  maize.  Even 
before  the  Spanish  conquest  of  Peru,  this  maize  beer  was  the 
common  beverage  of  the  Indians.  In  Lima  there  are  some  very 


THE  MARKET  OF  LIMA.  107 

dirty  and  ill-arranged  restaurations,  styled  picanterias.  These 
places  are  divided  by  partitions  into  several  small  compartments, 
each  of  which  contains  a  table  and  two  benches.  The  restaura- 
teur, usually  a  zambo  or  a  mulatto,  prides  himself  in  the  superi- 
ority of  his  picantes  and  his  chicha.  The  most  motley  assem- 
blages frequent  these  places  in  the  evening.  The  Congo  negro, 
the  grave  Spaniard,  the  white  Creole,  the  Chino,  together  with 
monks  and  soldiers,  may  be  seen,  all  grouped  together,  and  de- 
vouring with  evident  relish  refreshments,  served  out  in  a  way  not 
remarkable  for  cleanliness.  Brandy  and  guarapo  are  likewise 
sold  in  shops  which  are  to  be  met  with  at  the  corner  of  almost 
every  street.  The  coffee-houses  are  very  inferior ;  most  of  them 
are  very  dirty,  and  the  attendance  is  wretched. 

Every  street  in  Lima  contains  one  or  more  cigar  shops,  in 
which  mestizos  and  mulattos  are  busily  employed  in  making 
cigars.  Smoking  is  a  universal  custom,  and  is  practised  every- 
where except  in  the  churches.  The  cigars  used  in  Lima  are 
short,  and  the  tobacco  is  rolled  in  paper,  or  in  dried  maize  leaves. 
The  tobacco  is  brought  from  the  northern  province,  Jaen  de 
Bracamoras,  in  very  hard  rolls  called  masos,  about  a  yard  long 
and  two  inches  thick.  Another  kind  of  cigars  is  made  of  Peru- 
vian or  Columbian  tobacco.  They  are  scarcely  inferior  to  the 
Havannah  cigars,  and  would  be  quite  equal  to  them,  if  they  were 
kept  long  enough  and  well  dried :  but  in  Lima  they  are  smoked 
within  a  few  hours  after  being  made.  When  any  one  wants  to 
light  his  cigar  in  the  street,  he  accosts  the  first  smoker  he  hap- 
pens to  meet,  whatever  be  his  color,  rank,  or  condition;  and 
asks  him  for  a  light.  The  slave  smokes  in  the  presence  of  his 
master,  and  when  his  cigar  dies  out,  he  unceremoniously  asks 
leave  to  relight  it  at  his  master's.  It  has  been  calculated  that 
the  daily  cost  of  the  cigars  smoked  in  Lima  and  the  immediate 
vicinity  amounts  to  2,300  dollars. 

Formerly  the  market  was  held  on  the  Plaza  Mayor,  and  was 
always  abundantly  supplied  with  vegetables,  fruit,  and  flowers. 
Now  it  is  held  in  the  Plazuela  de  la  Inquisicion,  and  it  is  very 
inferior  to  what  it  used  to  be.  Along  the  sides  of  the  Plaza  are 
stalls  kept  by  women,  who  sell  sausages  and  fish.  The  central 
part  of  the  market  is  appropriated  to  the  sale  of  vegetables,  of 


108  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


which  there  is  always  an  excellent  supply.  Facing  the  Palace 
of  the  Inquisition  are  the  butchers'  shops.  The  meat  is  good, 
though  not  very  plentifully  displayed.  The  most  abundant 
kinds  of  meat  are  mutton  and  beef.  The  slaughtering  of  young 
animals  being  strictly  prohibited  by  law,  veal,  lamb,  and  suck- 
ing pigs  are  never  seen  in  the  market.  The  daily  consumption  of 
butcher's  meat  in  Lima  is  about  twenty-eight  or  thirty  heads  of 
horned  cattle,  and  between  one  hundred  and  sixty  and  two  hun- 
dred sheep.  Pork,  neither  fresh  nor  cured,  is  seen  in  the 
market ;  though  great  numbers  of  swine  are  slaughtered.  The 
fleshy  parts  of  the  animal  are  cut  into  small  square  pieces,  and 
boiled  ;  the  fat  or  lard  is  used  in  cookery,  and  the  pieces  of  pork, 
which  are  spread  over  with  lard,  are  called  chicharones,  and  are 
held  in  high  esteem  by  Limanian  epicures.  There  is  an  abun- 
dant show  of  poultry  in  the  market,  especially  fowls  and  turkeys, 
which  are  brought  from  Huacho.  Game  is  never  sold,  and  but 
very  little  is  obtained  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lima.  The  flower 
market,  which  is  held  on  the  Plaza  Mayor,  is  but  sparingly  sup- 
plied with  the  gifts  of  Flora.  The  ladies  of  Lima  recal  pleasing 
recollections  of  the  former  glory  of  their  flower  market,  and  speak 
with  regret  of  its  present  degenerate  condition.  The  much- 
vaunted  pucheros  de  flores  are  still  occasionally  displayed  for 
sale.  They  are  composed  of  a  union  of  fragrant  fruits  and 
flowers.  Several  small  fruits  are  laid  on  a  banana  leaf,  and 
above  them  are  placed  odoriferous  flowers,  tastefully  arranged 
according  to  their  colors :  the  whole  is  surmounted  with  a  straw- 
berry, and  is  profusely  sprinkled  with  agua  rica,  or  lavender 
water.  These  pucheros  are  very  pleasing  to  the  eye,  on  account 
of  the  tasteful  arrangement  of  the  flowers ;  but  their  powerful 
fragrance  affects  the  nerves.  They  vary  in  price,  according  to 
the  rarity  of  the  fruits  and  flowers  of  which  they  are  composed. 
Some  cost  as  much  as  six  or  eight  dollars.  A  puclicro  deflores 
is  one  of  the  most  acceptable  presents  that  can  be  offered  to  a 
Lima  lady. 

A  mingled  feeling  of  disgust  and  surprise  takes  possession  of 
the  European  who  witnesses  the  joy  which  pervades  all  classes 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Lima  on  the  announcement  of  a  bull-fight. 
For  several  days  the  event  is  the  exclusive  topic  of  conversation, 


BULL  FIGHTS.  109 


and,  strange  to  say,  the  female  portion  of  the  population  takes 
greater  interest  in  it  than  the  men.  Bills  notifying  the  approach- 
ing entertainment  are  stuck  up  at  the  corners  of  the  streets ;  and 
every  one  is  anxious  to  obtain  a  lista  de  los  toros.  When  the 
season  of  the  toros*  commences,  a  bull-fight  takes  place  every 
Monday,  and  then  the  whole  city  of  Lima  is  thrown  into  a  state 
of  indescribable  excitement.  The  ladies  prepare  their  finest 
dresses  for  the  occasion,  and  they  consider  it  the  greatest  possible 
misfortune  if  anything  occurs  to  prevent  them  going  to  the  bull- 
fight :  indeed,  a  Monday  passed  at  home  in  the  season  of  the 
toros  would  be  regarded  as  a  lost  day  in  the  life  of  a  Limena. 
Those  who  cannot  go  to  the  corrida,  resort  to  the  bridge,  or  to  the 
Alameda,  where  they  sit  and  amuse  themselves  by  looking  at  the 
throngs  of  people  passing  and  repassing. 

In  the  time  of  the  Viceroys,  bull-fights  frequently  took  place 
on  the  Plaza  Mayor.  Now  there  is  a  place  expressly  built  for 
these  entertainments,  called  the  Plaza  firme  del  Acho.  It  is  a 
spacious  amphitheatre  without  a  roof,  and  is  erected  at  the  end 
of  the  new  avenue  of  the  Alameda.  The  preparations  for  the 
sport  commence  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  Along  the 
Alameda  are  placed  rows  of  tables  covered  with  refreshments, 
consisting  of  lemonade,  brandy,  chicha,  picantes,  fish,  dulces, 
&c.  About  twelve  o'clock,  those  who  have  engaged  places  in 
the  amphitheatre  begin  to  move  towards  the  Plaza  del  Acho. 

Most  European  ladies  would  turn  with  horror,  even  from  a 
description  of  these  cruel  sports,  which  the  ladies  of  Lima  gaze 
on  with  delight.  They  are  barbarous  diversions,  and  though 
they  form  a  part  of  national  customs,  they  are  nevertheless  a 
national  disgrace.  At  the  same  time  it  would  be  unjust  to  make 
this  love  of  bull-fighting  a  ground  for  unqualified  censure  on  the 
Limenos,  or  a  reason  for  accusing  them  of  an  utter  want  of 
humanity.  Being  accustomed  to  these  diversions  from  early 
childhood,  they  regard  them  with  perfect  indifference ;  and 
custom,  no  doubt,  blinds  them  to  the  cruelties  they  witness  in  the 
bull-ring.  The  same  extenuation  may  be  urged  in  behalf  of  the 

*  Toros  (Bulls)  is  used  by  way  of  contraction  for  Corrida  de  Toros 
(Bull  Course). 


110  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


women  :  and  though  to  most  of  the  Limenas  a  bull-fight  affords 
the  highest  possible  gratification,  yet  there  are  some  who  form 
honorable  exceptions  to  this  remark,  and  who,  with  true  femi- 
nine feeling,  shrink  with  horror  from  such  scenes. 

Peru  is  the  only  one  of  the  South  American  states  in  which 
bull-fights  are  included  in  the  category  of  public  amusements. 
As  Peru  was  the  last  to  answer  the  cry  of  independence,  and  to 
shake  off  the  yoke  of  Spanish  domination,  so  she  adheres  with 
most  tenacity  to  the  customs  of  the  mother  country ;  for  she  has 
not  the  energy  requisite  for  developing  a  nationality  of  her  own. 
Even  here  is  apparent  that  want  of  independence  of  character  for 
which  the  Peruvians  are  remarkable.  The  faults  of  the 
Spaniards  in  them  become  vices,  because,  in  imitating  without 
reflecting,  they  push  everything  to  an  extreme.  Thus,  if  bull- 
fights are  cruel  in  Spain,  they  are  barbarous  in  Lima.  The 
government,  too,  finds  it  expedient  to  court  popularity  by  favor- 
ing public  entertainments,  among  which  bull-fights  take  the  lead. 
By  allowing  the  people  to  indulge  unrestrainedly  in  all  their 
favorite  amusements,  the  government  gains  a  two-fold  object, 
viz.,  that  of  securing  the  support,  if  not  the  love  of  the  people, 
and  of  averting  public  attention  from  political  affairs.  These,  it 
must  be  confessed,  are  important  objects  in  a  country  which, 
like  Peru,  is  continually  disturbed  by  revolutions  caused  by  the 
outbreaks  of  a  turbulent  populace,  or  an  undisciplined  army. 


SITUATION  OF  LIMA.  in 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Geographical  Situation  of  Lima — Height  above  Sea  level — Temperature — 
Diseases — Statistical  Tables  of  Births  and  Deaths — Earthquakes — The 
Valley  of  Lima — The  River  Rimac — Aqueducts,  Trenches,  &c. — Irriga- 
tion— Plantations — Cotton — Sugar — Various  kinds  of  Grain — Maize — 
Potatoes,  and  other  tuberous  roots — Pulse — Cabbage — Plants  used  for 
Seasoning — Clover — The  Olive  and  other  Oil  Trees — Fruits — Figs  and 
Grapes — The  Chirimoya — The  Palta — The  Banana  and  other  Fruits. 

LIMA,  according  to  the  careful  observations  made  by  Herr  Scholtz, 
is  situated  in  12°  3'  24"  south  latitude,  and  77°  8'  30"  west  Ion- 
gitude  from  Greenwich.  It  may,  however,  be  mentioned  that 
the  longitude  from  Greenwich  is  very  differently  stated.  In  sea 
charts  and  Manuals  of  Geography  it  is  often  marked  76°  50'. 
Humboldt  makes  it  77°  5'  5"  ;  and  Malaspina  77°  6'  45".  Ac- 
cording  to  Ulloa  it  is  70°  37'  west  of  Cadiz.  The  latitude  is 
very  generally  fixed  at  12°  2'  3"  south.  The  height  above  the 
level  of  the  sea  is  also  differently  estimated.  Rivero,  in  the 
Memorial  de  Ciencias  Naturales,  I.,  2,  page  112,  states  it  to  be 
154  metres,  or  462  French  feet.  On  another  occasion  he  makes 
it  184f  Castilian  varas  (each  vara  being  equal  to  33  inches  Eng- 
lish). He  gives  the  following  account  of  heights,  according  to 
the  barometer,  between  Callao  and  Lima,  in  varas,  viz.,  Callao,  00 ; 
Baquijano,  24f ;  La  Legua,  50  j ;  Mirones,  94|0  ;  Portada  del 
Callao,  150  ;  Plaza  de  Lima,  184|. 

The  first  estimate  given  by  Rivero  is  the  most  correct.  Gay 
makes  the  height  of  Lima,  at  the  corner  of  the  church  of  Espi- 
ritu  Santo,  172-2  Castilian  varas  ;  but  most  of  his  heights  are  in- 
correctly stated. 

The  conical  hill  in  the  north-east  of  Lima,  called  Cerro  de 
San  Cristoval,  is,  according  to  trigonometrical  measurements, 
made  in  1737,  by  Don  Jorge  Juon,  and  De  la  Condamines,  312 
varas  higher  than  the  Plaza  Mayor,  or  134  toises  above  the  sea  ; 


112  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


but  one  of  the  most  exact  measurements  is  Pentland's,  who  found 
the  height  to  be  1275  English  feet. 

The  average  temperature  during  the  hottest  period  of  the  year, 
from  December  to  March,  is  25°C.  The  medium  temperature 
during  the  cold  season,  from  April  to  November,  17*5°  C.  High- 
est rise  of  the  hygrometer,  21 '5°. 

The  low  temperature  of  Lima  at  the  distance  of  only  twelve 
degrees  from  the  Equator  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  situation  of  the 
town,  and  the  prevailing  atmospheric  currents.  The  Cordilleras, 
rising  at  the  distance  of  only  twenty-eight  Spanish  leagues  east  of 
the  city,  are  crowned  with  eternal  snow  ;  and  on  the  west  the  sea 
is  distant  only  two  leagues.  The  prevailing  wind  blows  from 
the  south-south-west.  West  winds  are  not  very  common,  though 
they  sometimes  blow  with  extraordinary  violence  for  those  re- 
gions, and  breaking  on  the  surrounding  mountains,  they  form 
atmospheric  whirlwinds,  which  diffuse  alarm  through  the  whole 
population.  In  June,  1841,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  observing 
one  of  these  dreadful  whirlwinds,  which  swept  away  huts,  and 
tore  up  trees  by  the  roots.  The  atmospheric  currents  from  the 
north,  which  pass  over  the  hot  sand-flats,  are  not  of  constant  oc- 
currence, but  they  are  oppressively  sultry.  There  must  be  other 
causes  for  the  low  temperature  of  Lima,  for  in  the  villages,  only 
a  few  miles  from  the  city,  and  exposed  to  the  same  atmospheric 
influences,  it  is  much  higher. 

Miraflores  is  a  small  place,  about  one  Spanish  league  and  a 
half  from  Lima,  but  it  is  much  hotter.  Among  the  records  of 
the  thermometer  are  the  following  : — 

December  20  to  27,  maximum  31-8°  C. ;  minimum,  25-9°  C. 

December  28,  at  6  in  the  morning,  26-0  C. ;  at  2  P.M.,  32-7° 
C. ;  at  10  at  night,  27-3°  C. 

January  1,  at  2  P.M.,  33-1°  C.,  maximum  of  the  day. 

January  18,  at  2  P.M.,  maximum  34-2°  C. 

A  comparison  with  the  temperature  of  Lima,  on  the  same 
days,  gives  an  average  of  5'7°  C.  of  heat  in  favor  of  Miraflores. 

The  River  Rimac,  which  rises  among  the  glaciers  of  the  Cor- 
dilleras, and  after  a  course  of  no  great  length,  intersects  the  city, 
doubtless  contributes  to  cool  the  atmosphere. 

The  climate  of  Lima  is  agreeable,  but  not  very  healthy.  Dur- 


STATISTICS  OF  HEALTH.  113 

ing  six  months,  from  April  to  October,  a  heavy,  damp,  but  not 
cold  mist,  overhangs  the  city.  The  summer  is  always  hot,  but 
not  oppressive.  The  transition  from  one  season  to  another  is 
gradual,  and  almost  imperceptible.  In  October  and  November 
the  misty  canopy  begins  to  rise  ;  it  becomes  thinner,  and  yields 
to  the  penetrating  rays  of  the  sun.  In  April  the  horizon  begins 
to  resume  the  misty  veil.  The  mornings  are  cool  and  overcast, 
but  the  middle  of  the  day  is  clear.  In  a  few  weeks  after,  the 
brightness  of  noon  also  disappears.  The  great  humidity  gives  rise 
to  many  diseases,  particularly  fevers,  and  the  alternations  from 
heat  to  damp  cause  dysentery.  On  an  average,  the  victims  to 
this  disease  are  very  numerous.  It  is  endemic,  and  becomes, 
at  apparently  regular  but  distant  periods,  epidemic.  The  inter- 
mittent fevers  or  agues,  called  lercianos,  are  throughout  the  whole 
of  Peru  very  dangerous,  both  during  their  course  and  in  their 
consequences.  It  may  be  regarded  as  certain  that  two-thirds  of 
the  people  of  Lima  are  suffering  at  all  times  from  tercianos,  or 
from  the  consequences  of  the  disease.  It  usually  attacks  foreign- 
ers, not  immediately  on  their  arrival  in  Lima,  but  some  years 
afterwards.  In  general  the  tribute  of  acclimation  is  not  so  soon 
paid  by  emigrants  in  Lima  as  in  other  tropical  regions. 

In  consequence  of  the  ignorance  of  the  medical  attendants, 
and  the  neglect  of  the  police,  the  statistical  tables  of  deaths  are 
very  imperfectly  drawn  up,  and  therefore  cannot  be  entirely  de- 
pended upon.  I  may,  however,  here  subjoin  one  of  them,  which 
will  afford  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  mortality  of  Lima. 

The  annual  number  of  deaths  in  Lima  varies  from  2,500  to 
2,800. 

In  the  ten  months,  from  the  1st  of  January  to  the  30th  of  Oc- 
tober, 1841,  the  number  of  marriages  was  134,  of  which  4ft 
were  contracted  by  whites,  and  88  by  people  of  color. 


114 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


DEATHS  IN  LIMA  FROM  JANUARY  1,  TO  OCTOBER  30,  1841 :— 


Diseases. 

Men. 

Women. 

Children. 

Total. 

Dysentery          

171 

105 

59 

335 

Fevers,  chiefly  intermittent 

57 

88 

71 

216 

Typhus            •;••"     .     :   .         . 
Pulmonary  Consumption    . 
Inflammation  of  the  Lungs  . 

14 

87 

78 

7 
110 
75 

24 
11 
26 

45 
208 
179 

Dropsy,  for  the  most  part  a  conse-  > 
quence  of  intermittent  fevers        ) 

33 

32 

7 

72 

Hooping-cough          . 

36 

36 

Small  Pox      .... 

3 

1 

4 

Sudden  death    

23 

13 

1 

37 

Shot                   

3 

3 

Various  Diseases                 .         . 

271 

228 

610 

1,109 

740 

658 

846 

2,244 

The  number  of  births  were  : — 


In  marriage         
Not  in  marriage  

Boys. 

Girls. 

Total. 

410 
432 

412 
428 

'822 
860 

842 

840 

1,682 

The  number  of  births  not  in  marriage  (860)  is  remarkable, 
and  no  less  so  is  the  number  of  dead  children  exposed,  which, 
during  the  above  interval,  was  495.  These  are  most  decided 
proofs  of  the  immorality  and  degraded  state  of  manners  prevail- 
ing in  Lima,  particularly  among  the  colored  part  of  the  popula- 
tion. Though  there  is  no  certain  evidence  of  the  fact,  yet  there 
is  reason  to  conjecture  that  a  considerable  number  of  those  in- 
fants are  destroyed  by  the  mothers.  Of  the  children  born  out  of 
marriage,  nearly  two-thirds,  and  of  those  exposed  dead,  full  four- 
fifths  are  Mulattos. 

The  important  annual  surplus  of  deaths  over  births  is  a  matter 
of  serious  consideration  for  Lima.  The  above  tables  show,  in  the 
course  of  ten  months,  a  surplus  of  562  deaths.  By  a  comparison 
of  the  lists  of  births  and  deaths  from  1826  to  1842,  I  find  that  on 
an  average  there  are  annually  550  more  deaths  than  births.  It 
would  lead  me  too  far  to  endeavor  to  investigate  all  the  grounds 


EARTHQUAKES.  115 


of  this  disparity,  but  I  may  observe  that  one  of  the  causes,  un- 
questionably, is  the  common,  though  punishable  crime  of  pro- 
ducing abortion. 

Along  the  whole  coast  of  Peru  the  atmosphere  is  almost  uni- 
formly in  a  state  of  repose.  It  is  not  illuminated  by  the  light- 
ning's flash,  or  disturbed  by  the  roar  of  the  thunder  :  no  deluges 
of  rain,  no  fierce  hurricanes  destroy  the  fruits  of  the  fields,  and 
with  them  the  hopes  of  the  husbandman.  Even  fire  appears 
here  to  have  lost  its  annihilating  power,  and  the  work  of  human 
hands  seems  to  be  sacred  from  its  attack.*  But  the  mildness  of 
the  elements  above  ground  is  frightfully  counterbalanced  by  their 
subterranean  fury. 

Lima  is  frequently  visited  by  earthquakes,  and  several  times 
the  city  has  been  reduced  to  a  mass  of  ruins.  At  an  average 
forty-five  shocks  may  be  counted  on  in  a  year.  Most  of  them 
occur  in  the  latter  part  of  October,  in  November,  December, 
January,  May,  and  June.  Experience  gives  reason  to  expect 
the  visitation  of  two  desolating  earthquakes  in  a  century.  The 
period  between  the  two  is  from  forty  to  sixty  years.  The  most 
considerable  catastrophes  experienced  in  Lima  since  Europeans 
have  visited  the  west  coast  of  South  America,  happened  in  the 
years  1586,  1630,  1687,  1713,  1746,  1806.  There  is  reason  to 
fear  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  this  city  may  be  the  prey 
of  another  such  visitation. 

The  slighter  shocks  are  sometimes  accompanied  by  a  noise  ; 
at  other  times,  they  are  merely  perceptible  by  the  motion  of  the 
earth.  The  subterraneous  noises  are  manifold.  For  the  most 
part  they  resemble  the  rattling  of  a  heavy  loaded  wagon,  driven 
rapidly  over  arches.  They  usually  accompany  the  shock,  sel- 
dom precede  it,  and  only  in  a  few  cases  do  they  follow  it ;  sound- 
ing like  distant  thunder.  On  one  occasion  the  noise  appeared  to 
me  like  a  groan  from  the  depth  of  the  earth,  accompanied  by 

*  A  great  fire  is  a  thing  almost  unknown  in  Lima.  The  houses  are  of 
brick,  and  seldom  have  any  wooden  beams,  so  there  is  little  food  for  a  fire. 
The  only  fire  which  I  heard  of  in  Lima  was  that  of  the  13th  January,  1835, 
when  the  interior  of  the  Capilla  del  Milagro  of  San  Francisco  was  de- 
stroyed. The  repairs  cost  50,000  dollars.  On  the  27th  November,  1838, 
it  was  again  solemnly  consecrated. 


116  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


sounds  like  the  crepitation  of  wood  in  partitions  when  an  old 
house  is  consumed  by  fire. 

Of  the  movements,  the  horizontal  vibrations  are  the  most  fre- 
quent, and  they  cause  the  least  damage  to  the  slightly-built  habi- 
tations. Vertical  shocks  are  most  .severe  ;  they  rend  the  walls, 
and  raise  the  houses  out  of  their  foundations.  The  greatest  ver- 
tical shock  I  ever  felt  was  on  the  4th  of  July,  1839,  at  half-past 
seven  in  the  evening,  when  I  was  in  the  old  forests  of  the  Chan- 
chamoyo  territory.  Before  my  hut  there  was  an  immense  stem 
of  a  felled  tree,*  which  lay  with  its  lower  end  on  the  stump  of  the 
root.  1  was  leaning  against  it  and  reading,  when  suddenly,  by 
a  violent  movement,  the  stem  rose  about  a  foot  and  a  half,  and  I 
was  thrown  backwards  over  it.  By  the  same  shock  the  neigh- 
boring river,  Aynamayo,  was  dislodged  from  its  bed,  and  its 
course  thereby  changed  for  a  considerable  length  of  way. 

I  have  had  no  experience  of  the  rotatory  movements  of  earth- 
quakes. According  to  the  statements  of  all  who  have  observed 
them,  they  are  very  destructive,  though  uncommon.  In  Lima  I 
have  often  felt  a  kind  of  concussion,  which  accords  with  that 
term  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word.  This  movement  had 
nothing  in  common  with  what  may  be  called  an  oscillation,  a 
shock,  or  a  twirl :  it  was  a  passing  sensation,  similar  to  that 
which  is  felt  when  a  man  seizes  another  unexpectedly  by  the 
shoulder,  and  shakes  him  ;  or  like  the  vibration  felt  on  board  a 
ship  when  the  anchor  is  cast,  at  the  moment  it  strikes  the  ground. 
I  believe  it  is  caused  by  short,  rapid,  irregular  horizontal  oscilla- 
tions. The  irregularity  of  the  vibrations  is  attended  by  much 
danger,  for  very  slight  earthquakes  of  that  kind  tear  away  joists 
from  their  joinings,  and  throw  down  roofs,  leaving  the  walls 
standing,  which,  in  all  other  kinds  of  commotion,  usually  suffer 
first,  and  most  severely. 

Humboldt  says  that  the  regularity  of  the  hourly  variations  of 
the  magnetic  needle  and  the  atmospheric  pressure  is  undisturbed 
on  earthquake  days  within  the  tropics.  In  seventeen  observa- 
tions, which  I  made  during  earthquakes  in  Lima  with  a  good 
Lefevre  barometer,  I  found,  in  fifteen  instances,  the  position  of 
the  mercury  quite  unaltered.  On  one  occasion,  shortly  before  a 
commotion,  I  observed  it  2-4  lines  lower  than  it  had  been  two 


EARTHQUAKE  OF  1746.  117 

hours  before.  Another  time,  I  observed,  also  on  the  approach 
of  the  shock  and  during  the  twelve  following  hours,  a  remarkable 
rising  and  sinking  in  the  column.  During  these  observations  the 
atmosphere  was  entirely  tranquil. 

Atmospheric  phenomena  are  frequent,  but  not  infallible  prog- 
nostics of  an  earthquake.  I  have  known  individuals  in  Lima, 
natives  of  the  coast,  who  were  seldom  wrong  in  predicting  an 
earthquake,  from  their  observation  of  the  atmosphere.  In  many 
places  great  meteors  have  been  seen  before  the  commotion.  Be- 
fore the  dreadful  earthquake  of  1746,  there  were  seen  fiery  va- 
vors  (exhalaciones  encendidas)  rising  out  of  the  earth.  On  the 
island  of  San  Lorenzo  these  phenomena  were  particularly  re- 
marked. 

Many  persons  have  an  obscure  perception — a  foreboding, 
which  is  to  them  always  indicative  of  an  approaching  earthquake. 
They  experience  a  feeling  of  anxiety  and  restlessness,  a  pressure 
of  the  breast,  as  if  an  immense  weight  were  laid  on  it.  A  mo- 
mentary shudder  pervades  the  whole  frame,  or  there  is  a  sudden 
trembling  of  the  limbs.  I,  myself,  have  several  times  experi- 
enced this  foreboding,  and  there  can  scarcely  be  a  more  painful 
sensation.  It  is  felt  with  particular  severity  by  those  who  have 
already  had  the  misfortune  to  have  been  exposed  to  the  dangers 
of  an  earthquake. 

I  will  here  only  briefly  mention  the  celebrated  earthquake  of 
1746,  as  all  its  details  are  fully  described  in  many  publications. 
The  reader  need  scarcely  be  reminded  that  it  happened  on  the 
28th  of  October,  the  day  of  St.  Simon  and  St.  Jude.  During 
the  night,  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  the  earth  having 
begun  to  tremble,  a  loud  howling  was  heard,  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  Lima  became  a  heap  of  ruins.  The  first  shock  was  so 
great,  that  the  town  was  almost  completely  destroyed  by  it.  Of 
more  than  3000  houses,  only  twenty-one  remained.  Still  more 
horrible  was  the  destruction  in  the  harbor  of  Callao.  The  move- 
ment of  the  earth  had  scarcely  been  felt  there,  when  the  sea, 
with  frightful  roaring,  rushed  over  the  shore,  and  submerged 
the  whole  town,  with  its  inhabitants.  Five  thousand  persons 
were  instantly  buried  beneath  the  waves.  The  Spanish  corvette 
San  Fermin,  which  lay  at  anchor  in  the  port,  was  thrown  over 


118  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  walls  of  the  fortress.  A  cross  still  marks  the  place  where 
the  stern  of  the  vessel  fell.  Three  merchant  vessels,  heavily 
laden,  suffered  the  same  fate.  The  other  ships  which  were  at 
anchor,  nineteen  in  number,  were  sunk.  The  number  of  lives 
sacrificed  by  this  earthquake  has  not  been,  with  perfect  accu- 
racy, recorded.*  Humboldt,  in  his  Cosmos,  mentions  that  during 
this  earthquake  a  noise  like  subterraneous  thunder  was  heard  at 
Truxillo,  eighty-five  leagues  north  of  Callao.  It  was  first  ob- 
served a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  commotion  occurred  at 
Lima,  but  there  was  no  trembling  of  the  earth.  According  to 
the  old  chronicle  writers,  the  earthquake  of  1630  was  more  dis- 
astrous. 

The  serious  commotions  which  take  place  on  the  Peruvian 
coast  appear  to  acquire  progressively  greater  extension,  but  only 
in  the  southern  and  northern  directions.  A  shock,  of  which 
Lima  is  the  centre,  though  felt  fifty  leagues  towards  the  north, 
and  as  far  towards  the  south,  may,  nevertheless,  be  imperceptible 
in  the  easterly  direction  (towards  the  mountains)  at  the  distance 
of  ten  or  twelve  leagues.  This  peculiarity  is  made  manifest, 
not  only  by  the  terraqueous  oscillations,  but  also  by  the  undula- 
tions of  the  sound,  which  usually  proceeds  still  further  in  a  direc- 
tion towards  the  south  or  the  north. 

Slight  shocks  are  usually  only  local,  and  are  not  felt  beyond 
the  limits  of  a  few  square  miles. 

The  atmospheric  phenomena  during  and  after  earthquakes  are 
very  different.  In  general,  the  atmosphere  is  tranquil,  but  occa- 
sionally a  stormy  agitation  is  the  harbinger  of  a  change.  I  was 
unexpectedly  overtaken  by  a  violent  commotion  on  the  sand-flat 
between  Chancay  and  Lima.  The  whole  surface  of  the  plain 
presented  a  kind  of  curling  movement,  and  on  every  side  small 
columns  of  sand  rose,  and  whirled  round  and  round.  The  mules 
stopped  of  their  own  accord,  and  spread  out  their  legs  as  for  sup- 

*  The  date  of  this  catastrophe  recalls  the  following  passage  in  Schiller's 
William  Tell  :— 

"  's  ist  heut  Simons  und  Juda 
Da  ras  't  der  See  und  will  sein  Opfer  haben." 

"  'Tis  the  festival  of  Simon  and  Jude, 
And  the  lake  rages  for  its  sacrifice." 


EARTHQUAKE  IN  QUIQUIJANA.  119 

port  and  to  secure  themsel  /es  against  apprehended  danger.  The 
arieros  (mule-drivers)  leaped  from  their  saddles,  threw  them- 
selves on  their  knees  beside  the  animals,  and  prayed  to  heaven 
for  mercy. 

The  effect  of  earthquakes  on  the  fertility  of  the  soil  is  some- 
times remarkable.  Numerous  observations  tend  to  show  that 
after  violent  commotions  luxuriant  lands  often  become  barren 
wastes,  and  for  several  years  produce  no  thriving  vegetation. 
Several  Quebradas  in  the  province  of  Truxillo,  formerly  remark- 
able for  their  fertility  in  grain,  were  left  fallow  for  twenty  years 
after  the  earthquake  of  1630,  as  the  soil  would  produce  nothing. 
Similar  cases  occurred  at  Supe,  Huaura,  Lima,  and  Yea.  All 
kinds  of  grain  appear  to  be  very  susceptible  to  the  changes  pro- 
duced by  earthquakes.  Cases  are  recorded  in  which,  after 
slight  shocks,  fields  of  maize  in  full  bloom  have  withered ;  and 
in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two  the  crops  have  perished. 

The  causes  of  the  frequent  earthquakes  on  the  coast  of  Lima 
are  involved  in  an  obscurity  too  deep  to  be  unveiled.  That  they 
are  connected  with  volcanic  phenomena  seems  probable.  Lima 
is  more  than  ninety  leagues  distant  from  the  nearest  active  vol- 
cano, that  of  Arequipa.  But  the  earthquakes  of  the  Peruvian 
capital  are  uniformly  independent  of  any  state  of  activity  in  that 
volcano,  and  it  is  certain  that  the  town  of  Arequipa,  which  lies 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  experiences  fewer  earthquakes  than 
Lima.  Of  the  six  serious  earthquakes,  the  dates  of  which  I  have 
mentioned,  only  that  of  1687  stands  in  connection  with  a  decided 
shock  in  Arequipa,  and  an  eruption  of  the  volcano.  Earthquakes 
are  of  rarer  occurrence  in  the  mountainous  districts  than  on  the 
coast,  yet  Huancavellica,  Tarma,  Pasco,  Caramarca,  have  been 
visited  by  heavy  shocks  ;  and  within  a  recent  period  the  village 
Quiquijana,  in  the  Province  of  Quipichanchi,  Department  of 
Cusco,  suffered  from  a  serious  commotion.  In  a  letter  from  an 
eye-witness  I  received  the  following  account  of  it. 

"  In  November,  1840,  the  earth  began  to  move  faintly  back 
and  forward,  and  a  dull,  distant,  subterraneous  noise  continued 
without  interruption.  The  first  powerful  shock  occurred  on  the 
23d  of  December.  During  the  whole  month  of  January,  1841, 
heavy  thunder  prevailed,  but  without  any  motion  of  the  earth. 


120  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


On  February  llth,  we  again  had  a  smart  shock,  and  from  that 
day  the  vibrations  recommenced,  which,  strange  enough,  were 
always  most  violent  on  Mondays  and  Thursdays.  The  subter- 
raneous noise  resounded  incessantly ;  but  it  was  heard  only  in 
the  village ;  for  at  the  distance  of  half  a  league  from  it  all  was 
tranquil.  The  heaviest  shocks  were  felt  in  a  circuit  within  the 
radius  of  three  leagues.  From  May  21st  to  June  2d,  all  was 
tranquil ;  after  the  last-mentioned  date  the  vibrations  recom- 
menced, and  frequently  became  heavy  commotions.  They  con- 
tinued until  the  middle  of  July,  1841.  From  that  time  we  have 
not  been  disturbed,  and  we  have  now  returned  to  the  ruins  of 
our  village." 

The  volcano  of  Arequipa,  which  is  forty-five  leagues  distant 
from  Quiquijana,  manifested,  during  the  whole  of  this  time,  no 
unusual  phenomena,  a  circumstance  which  speaks  forcibly 
against  the  idea  of  any  local  connection  between  the  earth- 
quake and  the  volcano. 

On  most  men  earthquakes  make' a  powerful  and  extraordinary 
impression.  The  sudden  surprise,  often  in  sleep,  the  imminent 
danger,  the  impossibility  of  escape,  the  dull  subterraneous  noise, 
the  yielding  of  the  earth  under  the  feet, — altogether  make  a 
formidable  demand  on  the  weakness  of  human  nature. 

Humboldt  in  the  Cosmos  truly  observes — "  What  is  most  won- 
derful for  us  to  comprehend  is  the  undeception  which  takes  place 
with  respect  to  the  kind  of  innate  belief  which  men  entertain  of 
the  repose  and  immovability  of  the  terrestrial  strata."  And 
further  on  he  says — "  The  earthquake  appears  to  men  as  some- 
thing omnipresent  and  unlimited.  From  the  eruption  of  a  crater, 
from  a  stream  of  lava  running  towards  our  dwellings,  it  appears 
possible  to  escape,  but  in  an  earthquake,  whichever  way  flight  is 
directed  the  fugitive  believes  himself  on  the  brink  of  destruc- 
tion !"  No  familiarity  with  the  phenomenon  can  blunt  this  feel- 
ing. The  inhabitant  of  Lima  who,  from  childhood,  has  fre- 
quently witnessed  these  convulsions  of  nature,  is  roused  from  his 
sleep  by  the  shock,  and  rushes  from  his  apartment  with  the  cry 
of  "  Misericordia !  "  The  foreigner  from  the  north  of  Europe, 
who  knows  nothing  of  earthquakes  but  by  description,  waits  with 
impatience  to  feel  the  movement  of  the  earth,  and  longs  to  hear 


THE  VALLEY  OF  LIMA.  121 

with  his  own  ears  the  subterraneous  sounds  which  he  has  hither- 
to considered  fabulous.  With  levity  he  treats  the  apprehension 
of  a  coming  convulsion,  and  laughs  at  the  fears  of  the  natives. 
But  as  soon  as  his  wish  is  gratified  he  is  terror-stricken,  and  is 
involuntarily  prompted  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 

In  Lima,  the  painful  impression  produced  by  an  earthquake  is 
heightened  by  the  universality  of  the  exercise  of  the  devotions 
(plegarias)  on  such  a  calamity.  Immediately  on  the  shock  being 
felt,  a  signal  is  given  from  the  cathedral,  and  the  long-measured 
ten-minute  tollings  of  all  the  church  bells  summon  the  inhabit- 
ants to  prayers. 

Taking  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  whole  coast  of  Peru,  we 
perceive  that  Lima  lies  in  one  of  those  oases  which  break  the 
continuity  of  the  extensive  sand-flats.  These  valleys  present 
themselves  wherever  a  river,  after  a  short  course  from  the  Cor- 
dilleras, falls  into  the  sea ;  they  are  always  fan-shaped  widen- 
ings  of  the  mountain  ravines.  The  valley  of  Lima  lies  in  the 
widest  extension  of  the  Quebrada  of  Mutucamas.  This  narrow 
gorge,  which  has  its  main  direction  from  E.N.E.  to  W.S.W., 
widens  at  Cocachacra,  and  extends  into  San  Pedro  Mama,  where 
the  Quebrada  of  San  Geronimo  unites  with  it.  It  then  runs 
down  to  the  coast,  extending  more  and  more  in  width,  and  is  in- 
tersected by  the  Rimac.*  This  river  rises  in  two  branches,  the 
largest  of  which  has  its  source  in  some  small  lagunes,  in  the 
upper  part  of  Antarangra,  on  a  height  15,600  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.  The  second  and  shorter  branch  takes  its  source  from 
a  small  lake  in  the  heights  of  Carampoma,  flows  through  the  val- 
ley of  San  Geronimo,  and  near  San  Pedro  unites  with  the  Ri- 
mac. The  most  considerable  streams  of  the  south-eastern  con- 


*  RIMAC  is  the  present  participle  of  rimay,  to  speak,  to  prattle.  The 
river  and  the  valley  were  known  by  this  name  among  all  the  ancient  Indi- 
ans. The  oracle  of  a  temple  with  an  idol,  which  stood  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  present  city  of  Lima,  conferred  the  name.  It  is  said  that  before 
the  time  of  the  Incas  persons  suspected  of  magic  were  banished  to  the  val- 
ley of  the  Rimac,  on  which  account  it  obtained  the  name  of  Rimac-malca, 
that  is,  the  WITCHES-VALLEY.  This  account,  which  is  given  by  some 
early  travellers,  requires  farther  historical  and  philological  inquiry,  before 
its  correctness  can  be  admitted. 

7 


122  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


fluence  are  those  which  rise  in  the  heights  of  Carhuapampa,  and 
near  Tambo  de  Viso,  flow  into  the  main  stream.  During  winter 
the  Rimac  is  very  inconsiderable,  but  when  the  rainy  season  sets 
in  it  swells  greatly,  and  in  the  upper  regions,  particularly  be 
tween  Surco  and  Cocachacra,  causes  great  devastations.  In  the 
lower  part  where  the  bed  becomes  broad  and  the  banks  are  not 
much  built  on,  no  considerable  damage  occurs. 

Several  small  conduits  are  brought  from  the  Rimac,  some  for 
giving  moisture  to  fields,  and  others  for  filling  the  street  trenches 
of  Lima.  The  water  for  supplying  the  fountains  of  the  Capital 
does  not,  however,  come  from  the  river,  but  from  two  springs 
situated  1 J  league  from  Lima  in  a  thicket  near  an  old  Indian 
settlement,  called  Santa  Rosa,  in  the  valley  of  Surco.  They  are 
inclosed  within  a  building  called  the  Puello,  or  Atarrea,  whence 
the  waters  are  conveyed  by  a  subterraneous  trench  to  the  Reser- 
voir (Caja  de  Santa  Tomas),  from  which  it  is  distributed  by  pipes 
to  112  public  and  private  fountains.  During  the  insurrection  of 
the  Indians  in  1781,  which  was  instigated  by  the  unfortunate  Ca- 
cique Don  Jose  Gabriel  Tupac  Amaru,  one  of  the  sworn  deter- 
minations of  the  participators  in  that  very  extensive  conspiracy 
was  to  drive  the  Spaniards  out  of  Lima  by  artifice  or  force. 
Among  the  numerous  plans  for  accomplishing  that  object,  I 
will  mention  two  which  have  reference  to  the  water  of  Lima. 
One  scheme  was  to  poison  the  whole  of  the  inhabitants.  For 
this  purpose  a  rich  Cacique  of  the  vale  of  Huarochirin  went  to 
an  apothecary  near  the  bridge,  and  asked  for  two  hundred  weight 
of  corrosive  sublimate,  saying  that  he  would  pay  well  for  it. 
The  apothecary  had  not  entire  confidence  in  the  Indian,  but  he 
did  not  think  it  right  to  forego  the  opportunity  of  making  a  very 
profitable  sale  ;  so,  instead  of  the  sublimate,  he  made  up  the 
same  quantity  of  alum  for  the  Cacique  and  received  the  price  he 
demanded.  Next  morning  all  the  water  in  Lima  was  unfit  for 
use.  On  examination  it  was  found  that  the  enclosure  of  the  Atar- 
rea was  broken  down,  and  the  source  saturated  with  alum.  The 
offender  remained  undiscovered. 

The  second  plan  was  formed  with  more  circumspection.  The 
conspirators  resolved  on  a  certain  day  to  send  into  the  city  a 
number  of  Indians,  who  were  to  conceal  themselves  on  the  roofs 


THE  SUGAR  CANE.  133 


of  the  shops  (Pulperias),  in  which  quantities  of  firewood  were  kept 
for  sale.  The  moment  the  cathedral  struck  the  hour  of  midnight, 
the  concealed  Indians  were  to  set  fire  to  the  wood.  Another 
division  of  Indians  was  immediately  to  dam  up  the  river  at  the 
convent  of  Santa  Clara,  and  thereby  lay  the  streets  under  water. 
During  the  unavoidable  confusion,  which  must  have  taken  place, 
the  main  body  of  the  Indians  was  to  enter  the  town  and  massacre 
all  the  whites.  This  well-combined  plan  was  by  mere  accident 
discovered,  when  it  was  of  course  frustrated. 

The  fertility  of  the  soil  round  Lima  is  very  great  when  irriga- 
tion is  practicable.  Where  this  cannot  be  accomplished,  the 
earth  withholds  even  the  most  scanty  vegetation.  The  riego,  or 
irrigation,  is  thus  effected.  On  certain  days  the  water  conduits 
are  closed,  and  the  fields  are  laid  under  water.  When  there  is 
a  deficient  supply  of  water,  the  trenches,  or  conduits,  are  not 
opened  till  the  following  day.  When,  however,  the  supply  of 
water  is  abundant,  the  riego  takes  place  early  every  morning. 

As  the  same  identical  plants  are  cultivated  along  almost  the 
whole  coast,  I  will  here  notice  them,  to  save  the  necessity  of  re- 
turning to  them  hereafter. 

COTTON  is  cultivated  only  in  a  few  plantations  in  the  immedi- 
ate vicinity  of  Lima  ;  but  it  abounds  more  in  the  northern  dis 
tricts,  particularly  in  the  department  de  la  Libertad,  in  the  coast 
province  Piura,  in  Lambayeque,  and  in  Truxillo.  In  the  south- 
ern province,  Yea,  a  considerable  quantity  is  also  reared  for  ex- 
portation. The  brown  cotton  was  chiefly  cultivated  in  the  time 
of  the  Incas.  Most  of  the  bodies  found  in  the  ancient  graves  on 
the  coast  are  enveloped  in  this  kind  of  cotton. 

The  SUGAR  CANE  is  cultivated  with  success  in  all  plantations 
where  there  is  sufficient  moisture  of  soil ;  and  of  all  the  agricul- 
tural produce  of  the  country,  yields  the  greatest  profit.  The 
sugar  estates  lie  on  the  sea-coast,  or  along  the  banks  of  rivers. 
The  vertical  limit  of  the  sugar  cane  growth  is  on  the  western 
declivity  of  the  Cordilleras,  about  4500  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  at  which  height  I  saw  fields  covered  with  it.  The  larg- 
est plantations,  however,  do  not  rise  above  1200  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea  ;  while  those  of  the  same  extent  on  the  eastern  de 
clivity  are  at  the  height  of  6000  feet.  Within  the  last  forty  years 


124  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  introduction  of  the  Otaheitan  cane  has  greatly  improved  the 
Peruvian  plantations  in  quality,  and  has  more  especially  increas- 
ed the  quantity  of  their  produce  ;  for  the  Otaheitan  canes  are 
found  to  yield  proportionally  one  third  more  than  the  West  India 
canes,  which  were  previously  cultivated. 

The  preparation  of  the  sugar  is,  as  yet,  conducted  in  a  very 
rude  and  laborious  manner.  In  most  of  the  plantations  the  cane 
is  passed  through  wooden  presses  with  brass  rollers.  These  ma- 
chines are  called  trapiches  or  ingenios.  They  are  kept  in  motion 
by  oxen  or  mules.  In  some  large  estates  water  power  is  em- 
ployed, and  in  San  Pedro  de  Lurin  a  steam-engine  has  been  put 
up,  which  certainly  does  the  work  quickly ;  but  it  often  has  to 
stand  for  a  long  time  idle.  A  part  of  the  sugar  cane  juice  is 
used  for  making  the  liquor  called  guarapo,  or  distilled  for  making 
rum ;  for  since  the  independence,  the  law  which  strictly  prohibit- 
ed the  distillation  of  spirituous  liquors  in  plantations  has  been  re- 
pealed. The  remainder  is  boiled  down  into  a  syrup,  or  further 
simmered  until  it  thickens  into  cakes,  called  chancacas,  or  brown 
sugar.  After  a  careful  purification  it  is  made  into  the  white 
cakes  called  alfajores,  or  prepared  as  white  sugar.  In  fineness 
of  grain  and  purity  of  color  it  is  inferior  to  the  Havannah  sugar, 
which,  however,  it  exceeds  in  sweetness.  The  regular  weight  of 
the  sugarloaf  is  two  arobas  ;  only  for  convenience  of  transport 
into  the  mountainous  districts  their  weight  is  sometimes  diminish- 
ed. The  consumption  of  sugar  in  the  country  is  great  and  its 
export  is  considerable,  but  it  goes  only  to  Chile. 

Of  the  different  kinds  of  grain,  maize  is  most  generally  and 
most  successfully  cultivated  in  Peru.  It  grows  on  the  sandy 
shore,  in  the  fertile  mountain  valleys,  and  on  the  margin  of  the 
forest,  where  the  warmth  is  great.  There  are  several  varieties 
of  maize,  which  are  distinguished  one  from  another  by  the  size 
of  the  head  and  by  the  form  and  appearance  of  the  grain.  The 
most  common  kinds  on  the  coast  are — 1st,  the  Mais  Morocho, 
which  has  small  bright  yellow  or  reddish  brown  grains  ;  2d,  the 
Mais  Amarillo,  of  which  the  grain  is  large,  heart-shaped,  solid 
and  opaque  ;  3d,  Mais  Amarillo  de  Chancay,  similar  to  the  Mais 
Amarillo,  but  with  a  semi-transparent  square-shaped  grain,  and 
an  elongated  head.  The  Morocho  and  Amarillo  maize  are 


GROWTH  OF  MAIZE  IN  PERU.  125 

chiefly  planted  in  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes.  They  run 
up  in  stalks  eight  or  nine  feet  high,  and  have  enormously  large 
heads.  In  one  of  them  I  counted  seventy-five  grains  in  a  single 
row. 

Maize  forms  the  bread  of  the  Peruvians.  It  is  almost  the  only 
sustenance  of  the  Indians  of  the  mountains,  and  is  the  principal 
food  of  the  slaves  on  the  coast.  Like  the  potatoe  in  Europe,  it  is 
cooked  in  a  variety  of  ways.  Two  of  the  most  simple  prepara- 
tions of  maize  are  those  called  choclas  and  mote.  Choclas  are  the 
unripe  maize  heads  merely  soaked  in  warm  water  ;  they  form  a 
very  agreeable  and  wholesome  article  of  food.  Mote  consists  of 
ripe  maize  first  boiled  and  then  laid  in  hot  ashes,  after  which  the 
husks  are  easily  stripped  off. 

As  to  whether  maize  is  indigenous  to  Peru,  or  when  it  was 
introduced  there,  much  has  already  been  written,  and  I  shall 
refrain  from  entering  into  the  investigation  of  the  question  here. 
I  may,  however,  mention  that  I  have  found  very  well  preserved 
ears  of  maize  in  tombs,  which,  judging  from  their  construction, 
belong  to  a  period  anterior  to  the  dynasty  of  the  Incas ;  and  these 
were  fragments  of  two  kinds  of  maize  which  do  not  now  grow  in 
Peru.  If  I  believed  in  the  transmigration  and  settlement  of 
Asiatic  races  on  the  west  coast  of  America,  I  should  consider  it 
highly  probable  that  maize,  cotton,  and  the  banana,  had  been 
brought  from  Asia  to  the  great  west  coast.  But  the  supposed 
epoch  of  this  alleged  immigration  must  carry  us  back  to  the  ear- 
liest ages ;  for,  that  the  Incas  were  (as  the  greater  number  of 
inquirers  into  Peruvian  history  pretend)  of  Asiatic  origin,  is  a 
mere  vague  hypothesis,  unsupported  by  anything  approximating 
to»historical  proof. 

Since  the  earthquake  of  1687  the  crops  of  maize  on  the  Peru- 
vian coast  have  been  very  inconsiderable.  In  the  mountainous 
parts  it  is  somewhat  more  abundant,  but  still  far  from  sufficient 
to  supply  the  wants  of  the  country.  Chile  supplies,  in  return  for 
sugar,  the  maize  required  in  Peru.  Of  the  other  kinds  of  grain 
barley  only  is  raised ;  but  it  does  not  thrive  on  the  coast,  and  is 
cultivated  successfully  at  the  height  of  from  7000  to  13,200  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  assertion  of  some  travellers,  that 
barley  was  known  to  the  Peruvians  before  the  arrival  of  the 


126  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Spaniards,  is  groundless.  It  is  true  that  barley  is  sometimes 
found  in  pots  in  Indian  graves.  Those  graves,  however,  as  I 
have  had  repeated  opportunities  of  being  convinced,  belong, 
without  exception,  to  modern  times,  chiefly  to  the  seventeenth 
century. 

Potatoes  are  not  planted  on  the  coast,  where,  it  appears,  the 
climate  and  soil  are  unfavorable  to  them.  In  those  parts  they 
are  small  and  watery.  On  the  higher  ridges  which  intersect  the 
coast  at  short  distances  from  the  sea,  the  potatoe  grows  wild.  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  root  is  indigenous  in  these  parts, 
as  well  as  in  Chiloe  and  Chile,  and  that  the  ancient  Peruvians 
did  not  obtain  this  root  from  the  south,  but  that  they  removed  it 
from  their  own  high  lands  in  order  to  cultivate  it  on  a  more 
favorable  soil.*  The  best  potatoe  grows  about  twenty -two 
leagues  from  Lima,  in  Huamantanga,  which  is  about  7000  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  to  the  north-west  of  the  Quebrada  of 
Canta.  This  potatoe  is  small  and  round,  with  a  thin  white  skin, 
and  when  bisected  the  color  is  a  clear  bright  yellow.  It  is  called 
the  Papa  amarilla,  and  there  is  much  demand  for  it  in  the  mar- 
kets, where  it  fetches  a  good  price.  The  other  potatoes  come 
chiefly  from  the  Quebrada  of  Huarochirin,  and  they  are  very 
well  flavored. 

The  Camotes  (Convolvulus  batatas,  L.),  not  improperly  called 
sweet  potatoes,  grow  to  a  considerable  size.  There  are  two 
kinds  of  camotes,  the  yellow  and  the  violet ;  the  latter  are  called 
Camotes  moradas.  These  two  kinds  are  much  liked  for  their 
excellent  flavor.  Beyond  the  height  of  3500  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea  they  cease  to  grow. 

The  Aracacha  (Conium  moschatum,  H.  B.  Kth.)  grows  on  the 
coast,  but  it  is  more  abundant  on  the  projecting  ridges  of  the 
Cordilleras,  and  on  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes.  It  is  a 
very  agreeable  and  nutritive  kind  of  tuberous  vegetable,  in  fla- 
vor not  unlike  celery.  It  is  cooked  by  being  either  simply  boiled 
in  water,  or  made  into  a  kind  of  soup.  In  many  districts  the 
aracacha  yields  two  crops  in  the  year. 

*  The  Quichua  language  has  no  word  for  potatoe,  but  in  the  Chinchay- 
suyo  language,  which  is  spoken  along  the  whole  coast  of  Peru,  the  potatoe 
is  called  Acsu. 


THE  YUCCA  AND  OTHER  TUBEROUS  ROOTS.      127 

The  Yucca  (Jatropha  manihot)  is  one  of  the  finest  vegetables 
of  Peru.  The  stalk  of  the  plant  is  between  five  and  six  feet 
high,  and  about  the  thickness  of  a  finger.  The  roots  are  from 
one  to  two  feet  long,  somewhat  of  the  turnip  form.  Internally 
they  are  pure  white ;  but  the  external  skin  is  tough,  somewhat 
elastic,  and  of  a  reddish-brown  color.  The  roots  are  the  edible 
parts  of  the  plant.  They  are  very  agreeable  in  taste,  and  easy 
of  digestion.  When  raw  they  are  hard  and  tough,  and  their 
taste  somewhat  resembles  chestnuts.  When  boiled  in  water  the 
root  separates  into  fibres,  and  is  rather  waxy,  but  when  laid  in 
hot  ashes  it  becomes  mealy. 

In  some  parts  of  Peru  the  Indians  prepare  a  very  fine  flour 
from  the  yucca,  and  it  is  used  for  making  fine  kinds  of  bread,  and 
especially  a  kind  of  biscuits  called  biscochuelos.  The  yucca  roots 
are  not  good  after  they  have  been  more  than  three  days  out  of  the 
earth,  and  even  during  that  time  they  must  be  placed  in  water, 
otherwise  green  or  black  stripes  appear  on  them,  which  in  the 
cooking  assume  a  pale  red  color.  Their  taste  is  then  disagreea- 
ble, and  they  quickly  become  rotten. 

To  propagate  the  yucca  the  stalk  is  cut,  particularly  under  the 
thick  part,  into  span-long  pieces,  which  are  stuck  obliquely  into 
the  earth.  In  five  or  six  months  the  roots  are  .fit  for  use,  but  they 
are  usually  allowed  to  remain  some  time  longer  in  the  earth. 
The  stalks  are  sometimes  cut  off*,  and  the  roots  left  in  the  earth. 
They  then  put  forth  new  leaves  and  flowers,  and  after  sixteen  or 
eighteen  months  they  become  slightly  woody.  The  Indians  in 
the  Montana  de  Vitoc  sent  as  a  present  to  their  officiating  priest 
a  yucca,  which  weighed  thirty  pounds,  but  yet  was  very  tender. 
On  the  western  declivity  of  the  Cordillera,  the  boundary  eleva. 
tion  for  the  growth  of  the  yucca  is  about  3000  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea. 

Among  the  pulse  there  are  different  kinds  of  peas  (garbanzos) 
on  the  coast ;  beans  (frijoles),  on  the  contrary,  occupy  the  hilly 
grounds.  All  vegetables  of  the  cabbage  and  salad  kinds  cultivat- 
ed in  Europe  will  grow  in  Peru.  The  climate,  both  of  the  coast 
and  the  hills,  suits  them  perfectly;  but  the  hot,  damp  tempera- 
ture of  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes  is  adverse  to  them. 
Numerous  varieties  of  the  genus  Cucurbita  are  cultivated  in  the 


128  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


chacras,  or  Indian  villages,  on  the  coast.  They  are  chiefly  con- 
sumed by  the  colored  population.  I  did  not  find  them  very 
agreeable  to  the  taste.  They  are  all  sweetish  and  fibrous. 

Among  the  edible  plants  which  serve  for  seasoning  or  spicery,  I 
must  mention  the  love-apple  (  Tomate),  which  thrives  well  in  all  the 
warm  districts  of  Peru ;  and  the  Spanish  pepper  (Aji),  which  is 
found  only  on  the  coast  and  in  the  mild  woody  regions.  There 
are  many  species  of  the  pepper  ( Capsicum  annuum,  baccatum,  fru- 
tescens,  fyc.),  which  are  sometimes  eaten  green,  and  sometimes 
dried  and  pounded.  In  Peru  the  consumption  of  aji  is  greater 
than  that  of  salt ;  for  with  two-thirds  of  the  dishes  brought  to  table, 
more  of  the  former  than  of  the  latter  is  used.  It  is  worthy  of 
remark  that  salt  diminishes,  in  a  very  striking  degree,  the  pun- 
gency of  the  aji ;  and  it  is  still  more  remarkable  that  the  use  of 
the  latter,  which  in  a  manner  may  be  called  a  superfluity,  has  no 
injurious  effect  on  the  digestive  organs.  If  two  pods  of  aji,  steeped 
in  warm  vinegar,  are  laid  as  a  sinapism  on  the  skin,  in  the  space 
of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  part  becomes  red,  and  the  pain  in- 
tolerable ;  within  an  hour  the  scarf-skin  will  be  removed.  Yet 
I  have  frequently  eaten  twelve  or  fifteen  of  these  pods  without 
experiencing  the  least  injurious  effect.  However,  before  I  accus- 
tomed myself  to  this  luxury,  it  used  to  affect  me  with  slight 
symptoms  of  gastritis.  On  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Cordilleras 
I  found  no  capsicum  at  a  greater  height  than  4800  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea. 

Lucern  (Medicago  sativa),  called  by  the  natives  alfa  or  alfalfa, 
is  reared  in  great  abundance  throughout  the  whole  of  Peru,  as 
fodder  for  cattle.  It  does  not  bear  great  humidity,  nor  severe 
heat  or  cold;  yet  its  elevation  boundary  is  about  11,100  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  On  the  coast  it  flourishes  very 
luxuriantly  during  the  misty  season ;  but  during  the  months  of 
February  and  March  it  is  almost  entirely  dried  up.  The  maisillo 
(Paspalum  purpureum,  R.)  then  supplies  its  place  as  fodder  for 
cattle.  In  the  mountainous  districts  it  is  also  most  abundant 
during  the  humid  season  ;  but,  as  soon  as  the  first  frost  sets  in, 
it  decays,  takes  a  rusty-brown  color,  and  remains  in  a  bad  state 
until  the  beginning  of  the  rainy  season.  On  an  average,  the 
alfalfa  may  be  cut  four  times  in  the  year  ;  but  in  highlying  dis 


THE  OLIVE  AND  OTHER  OIL  PLANTS.  129 

tricts  only  three  times ;  and  in  humid  soils  on  the  coast,  particu- 
larly in  the  neighborhood  of  rivers,  five  times.  Once  in  every 
four  or  five  years  the  clover-fields  are  broken  up  by  the  plough, 
and  then  sown  with  maize  or  barley.  In  the  sixth  year  clover  is 
again  raised. 

The  olive-tree  is  cultivated  chiefly  in  the  southern  provinces 
of  the  coast.  In  flavor,  its  fruit  approximates  to  the  Spanish  olive. 
That  the  oil  is  not  so  fine  is  probably  owing  to  the  bad  presses 
which  are  used,  and  the  rude  manner  in  which  the  operation  is 
performed.  The  olives  (Aceytunas)  are  preserved  in  a  peculiar 
manner.  They  are  allowed  to  ripen  on  the  tree,  when  they  are 
gathered,  slightly  pressed,  dried,  and  put  up  in  small  earthen 
vessels.  By  this  process  they  become  shrivelled  and  quite  black. 
When  served  up  at  table  pieces  of  tomato  and  aji  are  laid  on  them  : 
the  latter  is  an  excellent  accompaniment  to  the  oily  fruit.  Some 
preserve  them  in  salt  water,  by  which  means  they  remain  plump 
and  green. 

The  castor-oil  plant  (Ricinus  communis)  grows,  wild,  but  it  is 
also  cultivated  in  many  plantations.  The  considerable  quantity 
of  oil  which  is  pressed  out  of  the  seeds  is  used  unpurified  in  Lima 
for  the  street  lamps,  and  also  in  the  sugar  plantations,  for  greas- 
ing the  machines  employed  in  the  works.  The  purified  Ricinus 
oil  required  for  medicine  is  imported  from  England  or  Italy. 

The  Pinoncillo  tree  (Castiglionia  lobata,  R.)  is  cultivated  only 
about  Surco,  Huacho,  and  Lambayeque,  in  some  of  the  Indian 
chacras ;  but  it  grows  wild  in  considerable  abundance.  Its  bean- 
like  fruit,  when  roasted,  has  an  agreeable  flavor.  When  eaten 
raw,  the  etherial  oil  generated  between  the  kernel  and  the  epi- 
dermis is  a  strong  aperient,  and  its  effect  can  only  be  counteracted 
by  drinking  cold  water.  When  an  incision  is  made  in  the  stem, 
a  clear  bright  liquid  flows  out ;  but  after  some  time  it  becomes 
black  and  horny  like.  It  is  a  very  powerful  caustic,  and  retains 
its  extraordinary  property  for  years. 

The  fruits  of  the  temperate  climates  of  Europe  thrive  but 
indifferently  in  the  warm  regions  of  the  coast  of  Peru.  Apples 
and  pears  are  for  the  most  part  uneatable.  Of  stone  fruits  only 
the  peach  succeeds  well.  Vast  quantities  of  apricots  (called 
duraznos)  grow  in  the  mountain  valleys.  Of  fifteen  kinds  which 
7* 


130  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


came  under  my  observation,  those  called  lilanquillos  and  dbridores 
are  distinguished  for  fine  flavor.  Cherries,  plums,  and  chestnuts 
I  did  not  see  in  Peru,  yet  I  believe  the  climate  of  the  Sierra  is 
very  favorable  to  their  growth.  Generally  speaking,  the  interior 
of  the  country  is  well  suited  to  all  the  fruits  and  grain  of  central 
Europe ;  and  doubtless  many  of  our  forest  trees  would  flourish 
on  those  Peruvian  hills  which  now  present  no  traces  of  vegeta- 
tion. But  as  yet  no  system  of  transplantation  has  been  seriously 
set  on  foot.  The  praiseworthy  attempts  made  by  many  Europeans, 
who  have  sent  seeds  and  young  plants  to  Peru,  have  failed  of  suc- 
cess, owing  to  the  indifference  of  the  natives  to  the  advancement 
of  those  objects. 

All  the  fruits  of  southern  Europe  thrive  luxuriantly  in  the 
warm  regions  of  Peru.  Oranges,  pomegranates,  lemons,  limes, 
&c.,  grow  in  incredible  abundance.  Though  the  trees  bloom 
and  bear  fruit  the  whole  year  round,  yet  there  are  particular 
times  in  which  their  produce  is  in  the  greatest  perfection  and 
abundance.  On  the  coast,  for  example,  at  the  commencement  of 
winter,  and  in  the  woody  districts  in  the  months  of  February  and 
March,  melons  and  Sandyas  (water  melons)  are  particularly  fine. 

The  figs  are  of  two  kinds :  the  one  called  Higos,  and  the  other 
Brevas.  In  the  former  the  pulp  is  red,  in  the  latter  it  is  white. 
They  are  usually  large,  very  soft,  and  may  be  ranked  among  the 
most  delicious  fruits  of  the  country.  Fig-trees  grow  frequently 
wild  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  plantations  and  the  Chacras :  and 
the  traveller  may  pluck  the  fruit,  and  carry  away  a  supply  for 
his  journey ;  for,  beyond  a  certain  distance  from  Lima  figs  are 
not  gathered,  being  a  fruit  not  easy  of  transport  in  its  fresh  state ; 
and  when  dried,  it  is  not  liked.  Pomegranates  and  quinces 
seldom  grow  on  the  coast :  they  are  chiefly  brought  to  the  Lima 
market  from  the  neighboring  Quebradas.  The  mulberry-tree 
flourishes  luxuriantly  and  without  cultivation  ;  but  its  fruit  is  not 
thought  worth  gathering,  and  it  is  left  as  food  for  the  birds.  In 
the  southern  province  of  Yea,  the  cultivation  of  the  vine  has  been 
attended  by  most  successful  results.  In  the  neighborhood  of 
Lima  grapes  are  seen  only  in  a  few  Huertas  (orchards) ;  but  for 
size,  sweetness,  and  aromatic  flavor,  there  are  no  such  grapes  in 
any  other  part  of  the  world. 


THE  PALTA.  131 


Of  tropical  fruits,  the  number  is  not  so  great  in  Peru  as  in  the 
more  northerly  district  of  Guayaquil.  But  there  are  some  Pe- 
ruvian fruits,  the  delicious  flavor  of  which  cannot  be  excelled. 
One  of  these  is  the  Chirimoya  (Anona  tripetala).  Hanke,  in  one 
of  his  letters,  calls  it  "  a  master- work  of  Nature."  It  would 
certainly  be  difficult  to  name  any  fruit  possessing  a  more  exqui- 
site flavor.  « 

In  Lima  the  Chirimoya  is  comparatively  small,  often  only  the 
size  of  an  orange.  Those  who  have  tasted  it  only  in  Lima,  can 
form  but  a  very  imperfect  idea  of  its  excellence.  In  Huanuco, 
its  indigenous  soil,  it  grows  in  the  greatest  perfection,  and  often 
attains  the  weight  of  sixteen  pounds,  or  upwards.  The  fruit  is  of 
roundish  form,  sometimes  pyramidal,  or  heart-shaped,  the  broad 
base  uniting  with  the  stem.  Externally  it  is  green,  covered  with 
small  knobs  and  scales,  and  often  has  black  markings  like  net- 
work spread  over  it.  When  the  fruit  is  very  ripe,  it  has  black 
spots.  The  skin  is  rather  thick  and  tough.  Internally,  the  fruit 
is  snow-white  and  juicy,  and  provided  with  a  number  of  small 
seeds  well  covered  with  a  delicate  substance.  The  Chirimoyas 
of  Huanuco  are  also  distinguished  from  those  of  the  coast  by  hav- 
ing only  from  four  to  six  seeds ;  whereas  on  the  coast  they  are 
found  with  from  twenty-five  to  thirty.  The  question  as  to  what 
the  taste  of  this  fruit  may  be  compared  with,  I  can  only  answer 
by  saying,  that  it  is  incomparable.  Both  the  fruit  and  flowers  of 
the  Chirimoya  emit  a  fine  fragrance,  which,  when  the  tree  is 
covered  with  blossom,  is  so  strong  as  to  be  almost  overpowering. 
The  tree  which  bears  this  finest  of  all  fruits  is  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  feet  high.  It  has  a  broad  flat  top,  aud  is  of  a  pale-green 
color. 

The  Palta  (Persea  gatissima,  Gart.)  is  a  fruit  of  the  pear  form, 
and  dark-brown  in  color.  The  rind  is  tough  and  elastic,  but  not 
very  thick.  The  edible  substance,  which  is  soft  and  green,  en- 
closes a  kernel  resembling  a  chestnut  in  form  and  color.  This 
fruit  is  very  astringent  and  bitter,  and  on  being  cut,  a  juice  flows 
from  it  which  is  at  first  yellow,  but  soon  turns  black.  The  taste 
is  peculiar,  and  at  first  not  agreeable  to  a  foreigner ;  but  it  is 
generally  much  liked  when  the  palate  becomes  accustomed  to  it. 
The  fruit  of  the  Palta  dissolves  like  butter  on  the  tongue,  and 


132  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


hence  it  is  called  in  some  of  the  French  colonies  leurre  vegetale. 
It  is  sometimes  eaten  without  any  accompaniment,  and  sometimes 
with  a  little  salt,  or  with  oil  and  vinegar.  The  kernels  make 
very  good  brandy.  The  Palta-tree  is  slender  and  very  high,  with 
a  small  dome-like  top.  On  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes, 
I  have  seen  some  of  these  trees  more  than  sixty  feet  high. 

The  Platanos  (Bananas)  thrive  well  in  most  of  the  Peruvian 
plantations.  They  require  great  heat  and  humidity.  They  grow 
in  the  greatest  perfection  on  the  banks  of  small  rivulets.  On  the 
coast  the  tree  does  not  yield  such  abundance  of  fruit  as  in  the 
woody  regions,  where  it  is  not  unusual  to  see  a  tree  with  three 
hundred  heads  of  fruit  lying  one  over  another,  like  tiles  on  a  roof. 
In  the  country  adjacent  to  Lima,  and  also  on  other  parts  of  the 
coast,  three  favorite  species  are  cultivated.  The  Platano  de  la 
Isla,  or  of  Otaheite,  was  introduced  from  that  archipelago  in!769. 
The  fruits  are  from  three  to  four  inches  long,  generally  pris- 
matic, as  they  grow  thickly  on  the  stem,  and  lie  one  over  another. 
The  skin  is  yellow,  the  fruit  of  a  palish  red,  and  rather  mealy. 
The  Limenos  prefer  this  to  any  other  species  of  the  platano,  and 
they  consider  it  the  most  wholesome.  The  fruits  of  the  Platano 
Guinea  are  not  longer,  but  much  thicker  than  those  of  the  Platano 
de  la  Isla,  but  they  are  so  full  that  they  burst  when  quite  ripe. 
They  are  straight  and  cylindrical  in  form,  as  they  grow  on  the 
stem  at  some  distance  one  from  the  other.  They  are  of  a  bright 
yellow  color,  but  near  the  stem  spotted  with  black.  The  edible 
part  is  whiter  and  softer  than  that  of  the  Platano  de  la  Isla,  to 
which  it  is  greatly  superior  in  flavor  and  aroma.  The  natives 
believe  this  fruit  to  be  very  unwholesome,  and  they  maintain 
that  drinking  brandy  after  eating  Platanos  Guineos  causes  imme- 
diate death.  This  is,  as  my  own  often-repeated  experiments 
have  shown,  one  of  the  deep-rooted,  groundless  prejudices  to 
which  the  Peruvians  obstinately  cling.  On  one  of  my  excur- 
sions I  had  a  controversy  on  this  subject  with  some  persons  who 
accompanied  me.  To  prove  how  unfounded  their  notions  were, 
I  ate  some  platanos,  and  then  washing  down  one  poison  by  the 
other,  I  immediately  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  brandy.  My  Peru- 
vian  friends  were  filled  with  dismay.  Addressing  me  alternately 
in  terms  of  compassion  and  reproach,  they  assured  me  I  should 


MODE  OF  CULTIVATING  THE  PLATANO.  133 

never  return  to  Lima  alive.  After  spending  a  very  agreeable 
day,  we  all  arrived  quite  well  in  the  evening  at  Lima.  At  part- 
ing, one  of  my  companions  seriously  observed  that  we  should 
never  see  each  other  again.  Early  next  morning  they  anxiously 
called  to  inquire  how  I  was,  and  finding  me  in  excellent  health 
and  spirits,  they  said  : — "  Ah  !  you  see,  an  Jierege  de  gringo  (a 
heretic  of  a  foreigner)  is  quite  of  a  different  nature  from  us."  A 
piece  of  the  Platano  Guineo  soaked  in  brandy  retains  its  color 
unchanged ;  but  the  rib-like  fibres  which  connect  the  rind  with 
the  pulp  then  become  black,  and  imbibe  a  bitter  taste. 

The  fruit  of  the  third  kind  of  platano,  the  Platano  Largo,  is 
from  six  to  eight  inches  long,  rather  narrow,  and  curved  cres- 
cent-wise. The  rind  is  of  a  light  straw  color,  and  when  the  fruit 
is  very  ripe  it  has  large  black  spots.  The  edible  part  is  of  a 
whitish  hue,  harder  and  drier  than  that  of  the  two  species  already 
described  ;  and  its  flavor  its  quite  as  agreeable.  Its  fruit  is  less 
abundant  than  that  of  the  Platano  Guineo,  and  it  requires  longer 
time  to  become  fully  ripe.  A  fourth  kind,  which  grows  in  the 
forest  regions,  I  have  never  seen  on  the  coast.  It  is  the  Platano 
Altahuillaca.  It  bears  at  most  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  heads 
of  fruit.  The  stem  is  more  than  two  inches  thick,  and  above  an 
ell  long.  The  color  of  the  husk  is  light  yellow,  the  enclosed 
substance  is  white,  tough,  and  hard.  In  the  raw  state  it  is  flavor- 
less, but  when  roasted  in  hot  ashes,  or  cooked  with  meat,  it  makes 
a  fine  dish. 

When  the  platanos  of  the  uppermost  row,  that  is,  those  which 
form  the  base  of  the  conical-formed  reflex  cluster,  begin  to  turn 
yellow,  or,  as  the  natives  say,  pintar,  the  whole  is  cut  off,  and 
hung  up  in  an  airy,  shady  situation,  usually  in  an  apartment  of 
the  Rancho,  or  hut,  where  it  may  quickly  ripen.  The  largest 
fruits  are  cut  off  as  soon  as  they  are  yellow  and  soft,  and  so  the 
cutting  goes  on  gradually  up  to  the  top,  for  they  ripen  so  une- 
qually that  those  at  the  base  show  symptoms  of  decay  while 
those  at  the  top  are  still  hard  and  green.  As  soon  as  the  cabeza, 
or  cluster  of  fruit,  is  cut,  the  whole  branch  is  immediately  lop- 
ped off,  in  order  to  facilitate  the  shooting  of  the  fresh  sprouts. 
Each  branch  bears  only  one  cabeza,  and  eight  or  ten  months  are 
the  period  usually  required  for  its  complete  development. 


134  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


The  platanos  belongs  indisputably  to  the  most  useful  class  of 
fruit  trees,  especially  in  regions  where  they  can  be  cultivated 
extensively,  for  then  they  may  very  adequately  supply  the  place 
of  bread.  In  northern  Peru  and  Guayaquil,  the  platano  fruit  is 
prepared  for  food  in  a  variety  of  ways. 

Pine-apples  (Ananas)  are  not  much  cultivated  on  the  coast  of 
Peru.  The  market  of  Lima  was  formerly  entirely  supplied  with 
this  fruit  from  the  Montana  de  Vitoc.  When  brought  from 
thence  they  used  to  be  cut  before  they  were  ripe,  and  packed  on 
the  backs  of  asses.  The  journey  is  of  sixteen  or  twenty  days' 
duration,  and  the  road  lies  across  two  of  the  Cordilleras.  After 
being  several  days  in  the  cold  snowy  region  of  the  Puna,  the 
fruit  came  to  Lima  in  a  very  indifferent  state ;  but  since  the 
communication  by  steam  navigation  with  Guayaquil,  pine-ap- 
ples are  brought  from  the  latter  place  in  large  quantities.  They 
are  large,  succulent,  and  very  sweet. 

The  Granadilla  (Passiflora  quadrangularis)  is  about  the  size  of 
an  apple,  but  rather  oblong.  The  skin  is  reddish-yellow,  hard, 
and  rather  thick.  The  edible  part  is  grey  and  gelatinous,  and 
it  contains  numerous  dark-colored  seeds.  The  fruit  is  very 
agreeable,  and  in  taste  resembles  the  gooseberry,  and  is  very 
cooling.  The  Granadilla  is  a  shrub  or  bush,  and  it  twines 
round  the  trunks  of  trees,  or  climbs  up  the  walls  of  the  Ran- 
chos.  It  is  less  abundant  on  the  coast  than  in  the  adjacent  val- 
leys. 

The  Tunas  are  fruits  of  different  species  of  Cactus.  The 
husk,  which  is  covered  with  sharp  prickles,  is  green,  yellow,  or 
red  in  color,  and  is  easily  separated  from  the  pulp  of  the  fruit. 
When  being  plucked,  the  tunas  are  rubbed  with  straw  to  remove 
the  prickles,  which,  however,  is  not  always  completely  accom- 
plished. It  is  therefore  necessary  to  be  cautious  in  handling  the 
husks,  for  the  small  prickles  cause  inflammation  when  they  get 
into  the  fingers. 

The  Pacay  is  the  fruit  of  a  tree  of  rather  large  size  (Prosopis 
dulcis,  Humb.),  with  a  rather  low  and  broad  top.  It  consists  of 
a  pod  from  twenty  to  twenty-four  inches  long,  enclosing  black 
seeds,  which  are  embedded  in  a  white,  soft,  flaky  substance. 
This  flaky  part  is  as  white  as  snow,  and  is  the  only  eatable  part 


FRUIT  TREES  OF  THE  COAST  OF  PERU.  135 

of  the  fruit.  It  tastes  sweet,  and,  to  my  palate  at  least,  it  is  very 
unpleasant ;  however,  the  Limefios  on  the  coast  and  the  monkeys 
in  the  woods  are  very  fond  of  the  pacay. 

The  Lucuma  is  produced  only  in  the  southern  provinces  of  the 
coast  of  Peru,  and  is  chiefly  imported  from  the  north  of  Chile. 
The  fruit  is  round.  The  grey-brown  husk  encloses  a  fibrous,  dry, 
yellow-colored  fruit  with  its  kernel. 

The  Guayava  (Psidium  pomiferum)  grows  on  a  low  shrub, 
chiefly  in  the  valleys  of  the  coast,  and  on  the  eastern  declivity 
of  the  Andes.  It  is  of  the  form  and  size  of  a  small  apple.  The 
rind  is  bright,  yellow,  and  thin.  The  pulp  is  either  white  or  red, 
and  is  full  of  litttle  egg-shaped  granulations.  Its  flavor  is  plea- 
sant, but  not  remarkably  fine.  In  Lima  it  is  not  a  favorite,  for 
numerous  insects  lay  their  eggs  in  it,  and,  when  the  fruit  is  ripe, 
larvae  are  found  in  it. 

The  Pepino  (  a  cucurbitacea)  is  grown  in  great  abundance  in 
the  fields.  The  plant  is  only  a  foot  and  a  half  high,  and  it  creeps 
on  the  ground.  The  fruit  is  from  four  to  five  inches  long, 
cylindrical,  and  at  both  ends  somewhat  pointed.  The  husk  is  of 
a  yellowish  green  color,  with  long  rose-colored  stripes.  The  pulp 
or  edible  part  is  solid,  juicy,  and  well-flavored.  The  kernel 
lies  in  the  middle,  in  a  long-shaped  furrow.  By  the  natives  the 
pepino  is,  and  not  altogether  unreasonably,  believed  to  be  injuri- 
ous. They  maintain  that  this  fruit  is  too  cold  in  the  stomach, 
and  that  a  glass  of  brandy  is  necessary  to  counteract  its  injurious 
properties.  This  much  is  certain,  that  the  pepinos  are  very  indi- 
gestible, and  that  eating  them  frequently,  or  at  improper  times, 
brings  on  fits  of  illness. 

The  Mani,  or  Earth  Almond  (Arachis  hypogaa),  is  produced 
in  the  northern  provinces.  The  plant  is  from  a  foot  and  a  half 
to  two  feet  long,  and  very  leafy.  The  kernels  have  a  grey, 
shrivelled  husk :  they  are  white,  and  contain  much  oil.  When 
roasted  and  crushed,  they  are  eaten  with  sugar. 

The  Capulies  (Prunus  capulin,  Ser.)  grows  in  the  open  fields. 
In  towns  it  is  planted  in  gardens  or  in  pots.  The  fruit  is  a  little 
bigger  than  a  cherry.  It  is  of  a  deep  yellow  color,  and  has  an 
acid  taste.  The  capulies  are  not  frequently  eaten.  On  account 
of  their  very  pleasant  odor,  they  are  used  in  making  Pucheros  de 


136  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


fares,  or  with  other  odoriferous  flowers,  they  are  besprinkled  with 
agua  rica,  and  laid  in  drawers  to  perfume  linen.  The  ladies  of 
Lima  wear  them  in  their  bosoms.  The  same  uses  are  made  of 
the  Palillos  (Campomanesia  lineatifolia,  R.),  which  grow  on  trees 
from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high.  The  bright  yellow  fruit  is  as 
large  as  a  moderately-sized  apple.  The  palillo  emits  an  exceed- 
ingly agreeable  scent,  and  is  one  of  the  ingredients  used  in 
making  the  perfumed  water  called  mistura.  When  rubbed  be- 
tween the  fingers,  the  leaves  smell  like  those  of  the  myrtle  ;  but 
they  have  an  acid  and  a  stringent  taste. 

The  coast  of  Peru  is  poorly  supplied  with  Palm-trees,  either 
wild  or  cultivated.  The  Cocoa  Palm  is  grown  only  in  a  few  of 
the  northern  provinces,  and  the  Date  Palm  chiefly  about  Yea. 
With  a  very  little  care,  these  trees  would  thrive  excellently  in 
all  the  oases  of  the  coast  of  Peru. 


ROBBERS  ON  THE  COAST  OF  PERU.         13" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Robbers  on  the  coast  of  Peru — The  Bandit  Leaders  Leon  and  Rayo— The 
Corps  of  Montoneros — Watering  Places  near  Lima — Surco,  Atte  and 
Lurin — Pacchacamac — Ruins  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun — Difficulties  of 
Travelling  on  the  Coast  of  Peru — Sea  Passage  to  Huacho — Indian  Canoes — 
Ichthyological  Collections — An  old  Spaniard's  recollections  of  Alexander 
Von  Humboldt — The  Padre  Requena — Huacho — Plundering  of  Burial 
Places — Huaura — Malaria — The  Sugar  Plantation  at  Luhmayo — Quipico 
— Ancient  Peruvian  Ruins — The  Salinas,  or  Salt  Pits — Gritalobos — 
Chancay — The  Piques — Mode  of  extracting  them — Valley  of  the  Pasa- 
mayo — Extraordinary  Atmospheric  Mirrors — Piedras  Gordas — Palo  Seco. 

ALL  the  inhabited  parts  of  the  coast  of  Peru,  especially  the  dis- 
tricts adjacent  to  Lima  and  Truxillo,  are  infested  by  robbers,  and 
travelling  is  thereby  rendered  extremely  unsafe.  These  banditti 
are  chiefly  runaway  slaves  (simarrones,  as  they  are  called),  free 
negroes,  zambos,  or  mulattos.  Occasionally  they  are  joined  by 
Indians,  and  these  latter  are  always  conspicuous  for  the  cruelties 
they  perpetrate.  Now  and  then. a  white  man  enters  upon  this 
lawless  course  ;  and,  in  the  year  1839,  a  native  of  North  America, 
who  had  been  a  purser  in  a  ship  of  war,  was  shot  in  Lima  for 
highway  robbery.  These  robbers  are  always  well  mounted,  and 
their  fleet-footed  steeds  usually  enable  them  to  elude  pursuit.  It 
is  no  unfrequent  occurrence  for  slaves  belonging  to  the  planta- 
tions to  mount  their  masters'  finest  horses,  and  after  sunset,  when 
their  work  is  over,  or  on  Sundays,  when  they  have  nothing  to  do, 
to  sally  forth  on  marauding  expeditions. 

Most  of  the  highway  robbers  who  infest  the  coast  of  Peru  belong 
to  an  extensive  and  systematically-organized  band,  headed  by 
formidable  leaders,  who  maintain  spies  in  the  towns  and  villages, 
from  whom  they  receive  regular  reports.  They  sometimes  prowl 
about  in  parties  of  thirty  or  forty,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  capital, 
and  plunder  every  traveller  they  encounter  ;  but  they  are  most 


138  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


frequently  in  smaller  detachments.  If  they  meet  with  resistance 
they  give  no  quarter ;  therefore,  it  is  most  prudent  to  submit  to 
be  plundered  quietly,  even  when  the  parties  attacked  are  stronger 
than  the  assailants,  for  the  latter  usually  have  confederates  at  no 
great  distance,  and  can  summon  reinforcements  in  case  of  need. 
Any  person  who  kills  a  robber  in  self-defence  must  ever  after- 
wards be  in  fear  for  his  own  life :  even  in  Lima  the  dagger  of 
the  assassin  will  reach  him,  and  possibly  at  the  moment  when  he 
thinks  himself  most  safe. 

Foreigners  are  more  frequently  waylaid  than  natives.  Indeed, 
the  rich  and  influential  class  of  Peruvians  are  seldom  subjected  to 
these  attacks, — a  circumstance  which  may  serve  to  explain  why 
more  stringent  police  regulations  are  not  adopted. 

The  most  unsafe  roads  are  those  leading  to  Callao,  Chorillos, 
and  Cavalleros.  This  last  place  is  on  the  way  to  Cerro  de  Pasco, 
whither  transports  of  money  are  frequently  sent.  A  few  weeks 
before  my  departure  from  Lima  a  band  of  thirty  robbers,  after  a 
short  skirmish  with  a  feeble  escort,  made  themselves  masters  of 
a  remittance  of  100,000  dollars,  destined  for  the  mine- workers  of 
Pasco.  The  silver  bars  from  Pasco  are  sent  to  Lima  without  any 
military  guard,  for  they  are  suffered  to  pass  unmolested,  as  the 
robbers  find  them  heavy  and  cumbrous,  and  they  cannot  easily 
dispose  of  them.  These  depredations  are  committed  close  to  the 
gates  of  Lima,  and  after  having  plundered  a  number  of  travellers, 
the  robbers  will  very  coolly  ride  into  the  city. 

The  country  people  from  the  Sierra,  who  travel  with  their  asses 
to  Lima,  and  who  carry  with  them  money  to  make  purchases  in  the 
capital,  are  the  constant  prey  of  robbers,  who,  if  they  do  not  get 
money,  maltreat  or  murder  their  victims  in  the  most  merciless 
way.*  In  July,  1842, 1  was  proceeding  from  the  mountains  back 
to  Lima,  and,  passing  near  the  Puente  de  Surco,  a  bridge  about 
a  league  and  a  half  from  Lima,  my  horse  suddenly  shied  at 
something  lying  across  the  road.  On  alighting  I  found  that  it 
was  the  dead  body  of  an  Indian,  who  had  been  murdered,  doubt- 

*  The  Indians  resort  to  very  artful  methods  of  hiding  their  money.  They 
sometimes  conceal  it  between  the  boards  of  the  boxes  in  which  their  eggs 
are  packed,  or  stitch  it  into  the  stuffing  of  their  asses'  saddles.  They  often 
submit  to  be  killed  rather  than  avow  where^their  money  is  concealed. 


ROBBERS.  139 


less,  by  robbers.  The  skull  was  fractured  in  a  shocking  manner 
by  stones.  The  body  was  still  warm. 

The  zambo  robbers  are  notorious  for  committing  the  most 
heartless  cruelties.  In  June,  1842,  one  of  them  attacked  the 
Indian  who  was  conveying  the  mail  to  Huacho.  "Shall  I,"  said 
the  robber,  "  kill  you  or  put  out  your  eyes  ?"  "  If  I  must 
choose,"  replied  the  Indian,  "  pray  kill  me  at  once."  The  bar- 
barian immediately  drew  forth  his  dagger  and  stuck  it  into  the 
eyes  of  the  unfortunate  victim,  and  then  left  him  lying  on  the 
sand.  In  this  state  the  poor  Indian  was  found  by  a  traveller, 
who  conveyed  him  to  a  neighboring  village.  The  following 
anecdote  was  related  to  me  by  an  Indian,  in  whose  dwelling  I 
passed  a  night,  at  Chancay  : — About  half  a  league  from  the  village 
he  met  a  negro,  who  advanced  towards  him,  with  musket  cocked, 
and  commanded  him  to  halt.  My  host  drew  out  a  large  riding 
pistol,  and  said,  "  You  may  be  thankful  that  this  is  not  loaded  or 
you  would  be  a  dead  man."  The  negro  laughing  scornfully, 
rode  up  and  seized  the  Indian,  when  the  latter  suddenly  fired  the 
pistol,  and  shot  him  dead. 

When  these  Peruvian  banditti  are  attacked  by  the  military  or 
the  police,  they  defend  themselves  with  desperate  courage.  If 
they  can  effect  their  escape  they  fly  for  concealment  into  the 
woods  and  thickets,  which,  if  not  too  extensive,  are  surrounded 
and  set  on  fire,  so  that  the  fugitives  have  no  alternative  but  to 
surrender,  or  to  perish  in  the  flames. 

Within  the  last  few  years,  two  negroes,  named  Escobar  and 
Leon,  were  daring  leaders  of  banditti.  Leon,  who  was  originally 
a  slave,  commenced  his  career  of  crime  by  the  murder  of  his 
master.  He  eluded  the  pursuit  of  justice,  became  a  highway 
robber,  and  for  many  years  was  the  terror  of  the  whole  province 
of  Lima.  The  police  vainly  endeavored  to  secure  him.  Leon 
knew  the  country  so  well,  that  he  constantly  evaded  his  pursu- 
ers. When  the  price  of  2000  dollars  was  set  upon  his  head,  he 
boldly  entered  Lima  every  evening  and  slept  in  the  city.  At 
length  placards  were  posted  about,  calling  on  Leon's  comrades 
to  kill  him,  and  offering  to  any  one  who  might  deliver  him  up 
dead  into  the  hands  of  the  police  the  reward  of  1000  dollars 
and  a  pardon.  This  measure  had  the  desired  result,  and  Leon 


140  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


was  strangled,  whilst  asleep,  by  a  zambo,  who  was  his  godfather. 
The  body  was,  during  three  days,  exposed  to  public  view  in  front 
of  the  cathedral. 

Another  celebrated  bandit  was  the  zambo,  Jose  Rayo.  He 
took  an  active  part  in  several  of  the  political  revolutions ;  and 
having,  during  those  commotions,  been  serviceable  to  the  presi- 
dent, he  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  a  lieutenant-colonel,  and  made 
chief  of  the  country  police,  called  the  Partida  montada  del  campo. 
This  post  he  still  fills,  and  he  is  admirably  well  adapted  to  it,  as 
experience  has  rendered  him  thoroughly  acquainted  with  banditti 
life,  and  he  knows  every  hiding-place  in  the  country  round  Lima. 
Nevertheless  he  could  not  catch  the  negro  Leon,  or  possibly  he 
would  not  seize  him,  for  Leon  was  his  godfather,  a  relationship 
which  is  held  sacred  throughout  all  classes  in  Peru.  When  Rayo 
speaks  of  the  president  and  ministers  he  always  styles  them  sus 
mejores  amigos  (his  best  friends).  I  fell  in  with  him  once,  when 
travelling  on  the  road  to  Chaclacayo,  and  rode  in  company  with 
him  as  far  as  the  Hacienda  de  Santa  Clara.  I  found  him  exceed- 
ingly complaisant  and  courteous  in  his  manners  ;  but  his  true 
zambo  nature  was  not  wholly  concealed  beneath  the  smooth 
surface. 

Robbers,  when  captured  and  brought  to  Lima,  undergo  a  very 
summary  trial,  and  are  then  sentenced  to  be  shot.  The  culprits 
have  the  privilege  of  choosing  their  place  of  execution,  and  they 
generally  fix  on  the  market-place.  They  are  allowed  the  assist- 
ance of  a  priest  for  twelve  hours  prior  to  their  death,  and  they 
are  conducted  from  the  chapel  to  the  place  of  execution,  carrying 
a  bench,  on  which  they  sit  to  undergo  the  punishment.  Four 
soldiers  fire  at  the  distance  of  three  paces  from  the  culprit ;  two 
aiming  at  his  head,  and  two  at  his  breast.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions a  singular  instance  of  presence  of  mind  and  dexterity 
occurred  a  few  years  ago  in  Lima.  A  very  daring  zambo, 
convicted  of  highway  robbery,  was  sentenced  to  death.  He 
made  choice  of  the  Plaza  de  la  Inquisicion  as  the  scene  of  his 
execution.  It  was  market  time,  and  the  square  was  crowded 
with  people.  The  culprit  darted  around  him  a  rapid  and  pene- 
trating glance,  and  then  composedly  seated  himself  on  the  bench. 
The  soldiers  according  to  custom  levelled  their  muskets  and 


THE  MONTONEROS  141 


fired ;  but  how  great  was  the  surprise,  when  the  cloud  of  smoke 
dispersed,  and  it  was  discovered  that  the  zambo  had  vanished. 
He  had  closely  watched  the  movements  of  the  soldiers,  and  when 
they  pulled  the  triggers  of  their  muskets,  he  stooped  down,  and 
the  balls  passed  over  his  head.  Then  suddenly  knocking  down  one 
of  the  guards  who  stood  beside  him,  he  rushed  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd,  where  some  of  his  friends  helped  him  to  effect  his  escape. 

In  time  of  war  a  corps  is  raised,  consisting  chiefly  of  highway 
robbers  and  persons  who,  by  various  offences  against  the  laws, 
have  forfeited  their  freedom  or  their  lives.  This  corps  is  called 
the  Montoneros,  and  they  are  very  important  auxiliaries  when 
the  coast  is  the  theatre  of  the  war.  The  Montoneros,  not  being 
trained  in  military  manoeuvres,  are  not  employed  as  regular 
cavalry,  but  only  as  outposts,  scouts,  despatch-bearers,  &c. 
They  are  good  skirmishers,  and  they  harass  the  enemy  by  their 
unexpected  movements  ;  sometimes  attacking  in  front  and  some- 
times in  the  rear.  They  have  no  regular  uniform,  and  their 
usual  clothing  consists  of  dirty  white  trousers  and  jacket,  a  pon- 
cho, and  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat.  Many  of  them  are  not  even 
provided  with  shoes,  and  their  spurs  are  fastened  on  their  bare 
heels.  Their  arms  consist  of  a  short  carbine  and  a  sword. 
When  the  corps  is  strong,  and  is  required  for  active  service,  it  is 
placed  under  the  command  of  a  General  of  the  Army.  In  1838, 
General  Miller,  now  British  Consul  at  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
commanded  a  corps  of  1000  Montoneros,  who  were  in  the  service 
of  Santa  Cruz.  They  are  held  in  the  strictest  discipline  by  their 
commanders,  who  punish  theft  with  death.  There  is,  however, 
one  sort  of  robbery  which  they  are  suffered  to  commit  with  im- 
punity, viz,  horse-stealing.  The  horses  obtained  in  this  way 
are  used  for  mounting  the  cavalry ;  and  detachments  of  Monto- 
neros are  sent  to  the  plantations  to  collect  horses.  They  are 
likewise  taken  from  travellers,  and  from  the  stables  in  the  capi- 
tal ;  but  sometimes,  after  the  close  of  the  campaign,  the  animals 
are  returned  to  their  owners.  When  the  war  is  ended  the 
Montoneros  are  disbanded,  and  most  of  them  return  to  their 
occupation  as  highway  robbers. 

In  all  campaigns  the  Montoneros  are  sent  forward,  by  one  or 
two  days'  march  in  advance  of  the  main  army,  either  in  small 


142  TRAVELS  IN  PErtU. 


or  large  detachments.  When  they  enter  a  village  they  experi- 
ence no  difficulty  in  obtaining  quarters  and  provisions,  for  the 
inhabitants  are  not  disposed  to  refuse  anything  that  such  visitors 
may  demand.  A  troop  of  Montoneros  is  a  picturesque,  but,  at 
the  same  time,  a  very  fearful  sight.  Their  black,  yellow,  and 
olive-colored  faces,  seared  by  scars,  and  expressive  of  every  evil 
passion  and  savage  feeling  ;  their  motley  and  tattered  garments ; 
their  weary  and  ill-saddled  horses  ;  their  short  firelocks  and  long 
swords  ; — present  altogether  a  most  wild  and  disorderly  aspect. 
The  traveller,  who  suddenly  encounters  such  a  band,  may  con- 
sider himself  exceedingly  lucky  if  he  escapes  with  only  the  loss 
of  his  horse. 

A  universal  panic  pervades  the  city  of  Lima  whenever  a  de- 
tachment of  Montoneros  enters  within  the  gates.  On  every  side 
are  heard  cries  of  "  Cierra  puertas  !  "  (close  the  doors  !)  "  Los 
Montoneros  /"  Every  person  passing  along  the  streets  runs  into 
the  first  house  he  comes  to,  and  closes  the  door  after  him.  In  a 
few  moments  the  streets  are  cleared,  and  no  sound  is  heard  but 
the  galloping  of  the  Montoneros'  horses. 

Within  the  distance  of  a  few  leagues  from  Lima  there  are 
several  pretty  villages,  to  which  the  wealthier  class  of  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  capital  resort  in  the  summer  seasons,  for  sea-bath- 
ing. The  nearest,  situated  about  three-quarters  of  a  league 
from  Lima,  is  Magdalena,  where  the  Viceroy  of  Peru  formerly 
had  a  beautiful  summer  residence.  Miraflores,  about  midway 
between  Lima  and  Chorillos,  is  a  small  village  containing  a  plaza 
and  some  neatly-built  houses.  Though  the  heat  is  greater  here 
than  in  the  capital,  yet  the  air  is  purer,  and  Miraflores  may  be 
regarded  as  the  healthiest  spot  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lima. 
The  sultry  atmosphere  is  refreshed  by  the  sea  breezes.  Sur- 
rounded by  verdant  though  not  luxuriant  vegetation,  and  suffi- 
ciently distant  from  the  marshes,  Miraflores  appears  to  combine 
within  itself  all  that  can  be  wished  for  in  a  summer  residence. 
For  asthmatic  patients  the  air  is  particularly  favorable.  An  old 
Spaniard  of  my  acquaintance,  who  was  engaged  during  the  day 
in  business  in  Lima,  used  to  go  every  night  to  sleep  at  Mira- 
flores :  he  assured  me  that  if  he  slept  a  night  in  the  capital  he 
suffered  a  severe  attack  of  asthma. 


WATERING  PLACES  NEAR  LIMA.  143 

Chorillos  is  a  poor,  ill-looking  village.  The  streets  are  dirty 
and  crooked,  and  the  houses  are  mere  ranches.  It  is  built  close 
to  the  sea,  on  a  steep  sandy  beach ;  but,  though  anything  but 
a  pleasant  place,  Chorillos  is  the  favorite  resort  of  the  wealthy 
Limayan  families.  Not  a  tree  is  visible  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  village,  and  the  unshaded  rays  of  the  sun  are  reflected 
with  twofold  power  from  the  hot  sand.  A  broad,  steep  road 
leads  down  to  the  bathing-place  on  the  sea-beach,  which  is  rough 
and  shingly.  A  row  of  small  huts,  covered  with  matting,  serve 
as  dressing-rooms.  Both  ladies  and  gentlemen  use  bathing 
dresses,  which  are  very  neatly  made  of  a  kind  of  blue  cloth. 
The  ladies  are  accompanied  by  guides  (bahaderos).  These  are 
Indians,  who  dwell  in  the  village.  In  winter  they  employ  them- 
selves in  fishing,  and  in  summer  they  live  by  what  they  get 
from  the  visitors  who  resort  to  Chorillos.  They  are  a  good- 
looking,  hardy  race  of  people. 

The  time  for  bathing  is  early  in  the  morning.  The  interval 
between  breakfast  and  dinner  is  devoted  to  swinging  in  the 
hammock,  either  in  the  sala  or  in  the  corridor.  The  afternoon 
and  evening  are  spent  on  the  promenade,  and  the  later  hours  of 
the  night  at  the  gaming-table.  The  routine  of  the  day's  occu- 
pations and  amusements  is  much  the  same  as  in  most  of  the 
watering-places  of  Europe,  excepting  that,  in  the  latter,  the 
hammock  is  suspended  by  the  chair  in  the  reading-room  and 
coffee-house,  or  the  bench  on  the  promenade.  The  sultry  nights 
in  Chorillos  are  rendered  doubly  unpleasant  by  the  swarms  of 
vermin  which  infest  the  houses.  Fleas,  bugs,  mosquitoes  and 
sancudos,  combine  to  banish  rest  from  the  couch  of  even  the 
soundest  sleeper. 

Surco  is  situated  about  half  a  league  from  Chorillos,  and 
further  into  the  interior  of  the  country.  It  is  a  poor  but  plea- 
sant village,  surrounded  by  tropical  trees  and  luxuriant  vegeta- 
tion. The  climate  is  not  so  hot  as  that  of  Lima  or  Chorillos. 
Surco  is  a  very  pretty  spot,  though  seldom  resorted  to  by  the  in- 
habitants of  the  capital;  because  it  boasts  neither  baths  nor 
gaming-tables. 

Two  leagues  eastward  of  Lima,  in  the  direction  of  the  moun- 
tains, is  the  village  El  Ate.  It  lies  in  a  fertile  valley,  and  en- 


144  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

joys  a  pure  and  equal  temperature.  It  is  much  resorted  to  by 
invalids  suffering  from  pulmonary  disorders,  which,  if  not  cured, 
are  at  least  relieved  by  the  pure  air. 

Lurin  is  situated  five  leagues  south  from  the  capital,  and  a 
quarter  of  a  league  from  the  Rio  de  Lurin,  which  intersects  the 
Quebrada  of  Huarochirin.  Fine  gardens,  and  well-cultivated 
lands,  impart  beauty  to  the  surrounding  scenery.  At  Michael- 
mas Lurin  is  visited  by  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital, 
St.  Michael  being  the  patron  saint  of  the  place.  The  village 
stands  about  a  thousand  paces  from  the  margin  of  the  sea- 
shore, which  is  two  miles  distant  from  the  rocky  islands  of 
Tarallones,  Santo  Domingo,  and  Pacchacamac.  Prior  to  the 
Spanish  conquest,  the  valley  of  Lurin  was  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lous parts  of  the  coast  of  Peru.  The  whole  of  the  broad  valley 
was  then  called  Pacchacamac,  because  near  the  sea-shore  and 
northward  of  the  river,  there  was  a  temple  sacred  to  the  "  Crea- 
tor of  the  Earth."*  Pacchacamac  was  the  greatest  deity  of  the 
Yuncas,  who  did  not  worship  the  sun  until  after  their  subju- 
gation by  the  Incas.  The  temple  of  Pacchacamac  was  then  dedi- 
cated to  the  sun  by  the  Incas,  who  destroyed  the  idols  which 
the  Yuncas  had  worshipped,  and  appointed  to  the  service  of 
the  temple  a  certain  number  of  virgins  of  royal  descent.  In 
the  year  1534,  Pizarro  invaded  the  village  of  Lurin :  his  troops 
destroyed  the  temple,  and  the  Virgins  of  the  Sun  were  dishonored 
and  murdered. 

The  ruins  of  the  temple  of  Pacchacamac  are  among  the  most 
interesting  objects  on  the  coast  of  Peru.  They  are  situated  on  a 
hill  about  558  feet  high.  The  summit  of  the  hill  is  overlaid  with 
a  solid  mass  of  brick- work  about  thirty  feet  in  height.  On  this 
artificial  ridge  stood  the  temple,  enclosed  by  high  walls,  rising  in 
the  form  of  an  amphitheatre.  It  is  now  a  mass  of  ruins  j  all 
that  remains  of  it  being  some  niches,  the  walls  of  which  present 
faint  traces  of  red  and  yellow  painting.  At  the  foot,  and  on  the 
sides  of  the  hill,  are  scattered  ruins  which  were  formerly  the 


*  The  word  Pacchacamac  signifies  He  who  created  the  world  out  of  no- 
thing. It  is  compounded  of  Paccha,  the  earth,  and  camac,  the  particinle 
present  of  caman,  to  produce  something  from  nothing. 


TRAVELLING  ON  THE  COAST.  145 

walls  of  habitations.  The  whole  was  encircled  by  a  wall  eight 
feet  in  breadth,  and  it  was  probably  of  considerable  height,  for 
some  of  the  parts  now  standing  are  twelve  feet  high,  though  the 
average  height  does  not  exceed  three  or  four  feet.  The  mania 
of  digging  for  treasures  every  year  makes  encroachments  on  these 
vestiges  of  a  bygone  age,  whose  monuments  are  well  deserving 
of  more  careful  preservation. 

Travelling  on  the  coast  of  Peru  is  difficult  and  tedious.  The 
roads  lead  through  plains  of  sand,  where  often  not  a  trace  of 
vegetation  is  to  be  seen,  nor  a  drop  of  water  to  be  found  for  twenty 
or  thirty  miles.  It  is  found  desirable  to  take  all  possible  advan- 
tage of  the  night,  in  order  to  escape  the  scorching  rays  of  a  tropi- 
cal sun ;  but  when  there  is  no  moonlight,  and  above  all,  when 
clouds  of  mist  obscure  the  directing  stars,  the  traveller  runs  the 
risk  of  getting  out  of  his  course,  and  at  daybreak,  discovering  his 
error,  he  may  have  to  retrace  his  weary  way.  This  extra  fa- 
tigue may  possibly  disable  his  horse,  so  that  the  animal  cannot 
proceed  further.  In  such  an  emergency  a  traveller  finds  his  life 
in  jeopardy ;  for  should  he  attempt  to  go  forward  on  foot  he  may, 
in  all  probability,  fall  a  sacrifice  to  fatigue  and  thirst.  Numbers 
of  beasts  of  burden  sink  every  year  under  the  difficulties  of  such 
a  journey ;  and  their  bones  serve  to  mark  the  direction  of  the 
road.  Long  journeys  over  these  sand  plains  should  be  under- 
taken only  with  good  and  well-tried  horses.  For  the  most  part 
the  horses  cannot  stand  hunger  and  thirst  forty-eight  hours  with- 
out becoming  so  exhausted  that  the  rider  has  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty in  making  them  drag  on  ;  and  if  he  is  inconsiderate  enough 
to  force  the  animal  to  take  a  quicker  pace,  the  horse  lies  down 
and  dies.  The  mule,  which  more  easily  supports  the  difficul- 
ties of  a  severe  journey  on  the  sparest  food,  is,  in  Peru,  the  camel 
of  the  desert.  Without  mules,  a  long  journey  on  most  parts  of 
the  coast  would  be  impracticable.  The  horse  obeys  the  spur 
until  he  falls,  dead  under  the  rider.  Not  so  the  mule  :  when  too 
weary  to  journey  onward  he  stands  stock  still,  and  neither  whip 
nor  spur  will  move  him  until  he  has  rested.  After  that  he  will 
willingly  proceed  on  his  way.  By  this  means  the  traveller  has 
a  criterion  by  which  he  can  judge  of  the  powers  of  his  animal. 

Excursions  along  the  coast  have  been  greatly  facilitated  by  the 
8 


146  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


introduction  of  steam  navigation,  and  travellers  now  eagerly  avail 
themselves  of  that  rapid  and  secure  mode  of  conveyance.  Even 
in  sailing  vessels  voyages  from  south  to  north  can  be  conveniently 
performed  in  consequence  of  the  regularity  of  the  tradewind. 

During  my  residence  in  Lima,  in  the  commencement  of  the 
year  1841,  I  visited  the  port  of  Huacho,  situated  to  the  north. 
A  packet  bound  to  Panama  had  permission  to  touch  at  Huacho, 
without  casting  anchor,  as  she  had  to  convey  political  prisoners 
under  sentence  of  transportation  to  Panama.  I  was  one1  of  five 
passengers  who  landed  at  Huacho,  and  among  the  number  was 
the  pastor  of  the  town,  that  very  original  individual,  "  the  Cura 
Requena."  The  passage,  which  is  usually  made  in  fourteen 
hours,  lasted  two  days  and  a  half.  Off  the  port  we  fell  in  with  a 
Peruvian  sloop  of  war,  which,  on  our  sailing  from  Callao,  had 
been  sent  to  watch  us,  and  to  stop  the  prisoners  in  case  they  at- 
tempted to  escape.  Our  captain  lay  to,  and  we  stepped  into  a 
boat.  Our  movements  were  observed  from  the  shore,  where,  for 
some  days,  a  report  had  prevailed  that  Santa  Cruz  was  coming 
with  Corsairs,  to  make  a  descent.  The  inhabitants  believed  that 
our  ship  must  belong  to  that  expedition.  They  were  the  more 
confirmed  in  their  notion,  inasmuch  as  the  appearance  of  a  sloop 
of  war,  which  had  sailed  about  for  some  hours  in  the  bay,  could 
not  otherwise  be  explained.  Accordingly  the  alarm  bell  was 
rung.  The  custom-house  officers  and  the  coast  guards,  headed 
by  the  port  captain,  and  followed  by  a  crowd  of  people,  came 
down  to  the  shore,  some  armed  with  muskets  and  pistols,  others 
with  swords  and  cudgels,  to  repel  the  intended  attack. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  port  of  Huacho  the  breakers  are  so 
dangerous  that  an  ordinary-sized  boat  cannot  put  in.  Landing 
is  therefore  effected  in  the  small  canoes  of  the  Indians.  When 
we  approached  the  shore  we  made  signals,  and  called  loudly  for 
canoes,  but  in  vain.  The  dismayed  Huachanos  showed  no  in- 
clination to  assist  their  supposed  enemies.  Our  captain,  who 
was  with  us  in  the  boat,  said,  that  as  a  fresh  wind  from  the  shore 
was  springing  up  he  could  wait  no  longer,  and  that  he  must  take 
us  with  him  to  Panama.  This  very  unpleasant  piece  of  informa- 
tion prompted  us  to  put  into  execution  a  plan  which  was  suggested 
by  despair.  The  tall,  lank  pastor,  wrapped  in  the  black  ecclesi- 


ICHTHYOLOGICAL  COLLECTIONS.  147 

astical  robe,  called  the  talar,  was  placed  at  the  prow,  where  he 
stood  up,  making  signs  of  peace  and  friendship  to  the  natives. 
This  had  the  desired  effect.  The  port  captain  had  a  good  glass, 
with  which  he  quickly  recognized  the  marked  features  of  the 
Cura,  and  several  Indian  boats  were  instantly  despatched  to  con- 
vey us  on  shore.  These  Indian  canoes  consist  of  long  narrow 
stumps  of  trees,  hollowed  longitudinally.  On  either  side  is 
nailed  a  palo  de  lalzas,  viz.,  a  beam  of  a  very  porous  kind  of 
wood.  One  Indian  sits  forward,  another  more  backward,  each 
having  a  short  wooden  shovel-shaped  oar,  with  which  they  strike 
the  water  right  and  left,  and  thus  scull  the  boat  onward.  The 
passengers  must  crouch  or  kneel  down  in  the  middle,  and  dare 
not  stir,  for  the  least  irregularity  in  the  motion  would  upset  the 
boat.  We  landed  safely,  and  amused  ourselves  by  referring  to 
the  mistake  of  the  brave  guardians  of  the  coast.  Horses  were 
provided  for  us,  and  we  rode  to  the  town,  which  is  situated  at 
about  half  a  league  up  the  gently-rising  coast. 

My  principal  occupation,  during  a  six  weeks'  residence  on  this 
part  of  the  coast,  which  is  very  rich  in  fishes,  was  to  augment 
my  ichthyological  collection,  and  to  make  myself  well  acquainted 
with  the  environs  of  Huacho.  Every  morning,  at  five  o'clock, 
I  rode  down  to  the  shore,  and  waited  on  the  strand  to  see  the 
boats  returning  with  what  had  been  caught,  during  the  night,  by 
the.  fishers,  who  readily  descried  me  at  a  distance,  and  held  up, 
in  their  boat,  such  strange  inhabitants  of  the  deep  as  had  come 
into  their  possession.  I  succeeded  in*  making  out,  from  several 
hundred  individual  specimens,  one  hundred  and  twenty  distinct 
species  of  sea  and  river  fish.  But  an  unlucky  fate  hovered  over 
this  fine  collection.  The  fishes  were  all  put  into  a  cask  with 
brandy,  which,  by  neglect  of  the  commissary  of  the  port,  was 
left  on  the  Mole  at  Callao,  for  several  months,  in  the  burning 
heat  of  the  sun :  in  consequence  its  contents  were  utterly  de- 
stroyed. A  second  collection  was  prepared,  and  immediately 
shipped  for  Europe,  and  in  the  packing  the  greatest  care  was 
observed.  Nevertheless  it  arrived,  after  a  voyage  of  fifteen 
months,  in  a  state  quite  useless.  Thus  the  fruits  of  much  labor 
and  a  considerable  expense  were  entirely  lost. 

Huacho  is  a  little  village,  which,  since  the  war  of  Indepen- 


.48  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


dence,  has  received  the  title  of  "  city."  It  has  more  than  5000 
inhabitants,  of  whom  four-fifths  are  Indians  and  the  rest  mesti- 
zes.  Very  few  whites  have  settled  here.  Among  them  I  met 
an  old  lame  Spaniard,  "  Don  Simon,"  who,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  present  century,  accompanied  the  celebrated  Alexander  von 
Humboldt  to  the  beds  of  salt  situated  a  few  miles  to  the  south. 
In  relating,  with  enthusiastic  pleasure,  his  recollections  of  the 
youthful  and  indefatigable  traveller,  he  told  me  that,  some  years 
ago,  he  had  read  through  the  book  which  Humboldt  wrote  on 
America,  and  he  added,  with  great  simplicity,  "  pero,  Senor,  ahi 
he  perdido  los  estribos."* 

The  natives  employ  themselves  in  fishing,  agriculture,  and  the 
breeding  of  poultry.  Most  of  the  poultry  brought  to  market  in 
Lima  comes  from  Huacho.  Every  Friday  large  caravan-like 
processions  of  Indian  women  repair  to  the  capital  with  fowls, 
ducks,  and  turkeys.  Fifteen  or  twenty  are  tied  together  by  the 
feet,  and  make  a  sort  of  bunch ;  and  two  of  such  bunches  are 
hung  at  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  so  that  one  hangs  down  on 
either  side  of  the  horse.  The  cholaf  sits  in  the  middle.  Under 
this  burthen  the  poor  animal  has  to  travel  two  days  and  a  half. 
Only  when  the  caravan  halts  does  he  enjoy  the  relief  of  being 
unsaddled  and  fed.  Some  of  the  Indians  of  Huacho  work  in  the 
salt-pits.  The  women  plait  coarse  straw  hats,  and  a  kind  of 
mats  called  petates,  which  they  carry  to  Lima  for  sale.  "  •«" 

The  Huachanos  cannot  be  ranked  among  the  best  classes  of 
the  Indians.  They  are  malicious,  revengeful,  and  knavish. 
Their  character  has  evidently  deteriorated  amidst  the  numerous 
revolutions  which  preceded  the  establishment  of  the  Republic, 
and  the  frequent  passage  of  troops  through  the  town.  The  Padre 
Requena  sketched  to  me  a  terrible  picture  of  his  Indios  brutos  ; 
but  truly,  under  the  guidance  of  such  a  shepherd,  it  were  un- 
reasonable to  expect  the  flock  to  be  very  good.  This  venerable 
Cura  was  a  fair  type  of  the  Peruvian  priesthood.  He  was  pas- 

*  Literally—"  But  there,  sir,  I  lost  the  stirrups."  Meaning  that  he  did 
not  understand  it.  The  Spanish  phrase,  Perder  los  estribos,  signifies  to  get 
confused  or  embarrassed. 

f  Chola  is  the  common  designation  for  an  Indian  female.  The  mascu- 
line is  Cholo. 


CLERICAL  FEES.  U9 


sionately  fond  of  hunting,  and  for  the  enjoyment  of  that  recrea- 
tion he  kept  a  number  of  excellent  horses,  and  several  packs  of 
hounds,  particularly  galgos  (greyhounds),  for  some  of  which  he 
paid  150  or  200  dollars.  In  the  most  shameless  way  he  violated 
the  ecclesiastical  vow  of  celibacy,  and  he  was  usually  surrounded 
by  several  of  his  own  children,  who  called  him  uncle,  addressing 
him  by  the  appellation  of  tio,  the  term  usually  employed  in  Peru 
to  express  that  sort  of  relationship.  The  Padre  used  to  boast 
of  his  alleged  friendship  with  Lord  Cochrane,  in  which  he  af- 
fected to  pride  himself  very  greatly.  He  died  in  a  few  weeks 
after  his  return  to  Huacho.  He  refused  so  long  to  make  his  con- 
fession, that  the  Indians,  uttering  furious  menaces,  assembled  in 
crowds  about  his  house.  Some  even  compelled  a  priest  to  go  in 
to  him,  to  represent  the  awful  consequences  of  his  obstinacy. 
On  the  approach  of  death,  he  declared  that  the  thought  which 
most  occupied  him  was  his  separation  from  his  hounds,  and  when 
his  hands  were  becoming  "cold  he  called  to  his  negro  to  fetch  a 
pair  of  buckskin  hunting  gloves,  and  desired  to  have  them  drawn 
on. 

In  Peru  the  clergy  have  no  fixed  stipend.  Their  emoluments 
are  derived  from  the  fees  and  perquisites  which  their  ecclesiasti- 
cal functions  bring  in.  For  baptisms,  marriages,  and  masses, 
fixed  sums  are  established  ;  but  it  is  not  so  with  burials,  for  which 
the  priest  receives  a  present  proportional  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  deceased.  The  interment  of  a  poor  person  (entierro  baxo) 
costs  at  least  from  eight  to  ten  dollars,  which  sum  is  extorted 
from  the  survivors  with  the  most  unrelenting  rigor.  For  the 
burial  of  a  rich  person  (entierro  alto)  the  sum  of  two  hundred 
dollars  is  frequently  paid.  If  a  wealthy  man  should  express  in 
his  will  his  desire  for  an  entierro  baxo,  the  priest  sets  this  clause 
aside,  and  proceeds  with  the  costly  ceremonies,  the  payment  for 
which  is  insured  by  the  pious  feelings  of  the  family.  Hence 
some  of  the  richer  comunerias,  of  which  Huacho  is  one,  yield  to 
the  priest  annually  from  12,000  to  14,000  dollars.  When  a 
priest  dies,  the  clergy  of  the  neighboring  villages  meet  and  bury 
him  with  great  pomp,  free  of  any  payment  except  a  good  ban- 
quet. 

A  rich  Indian  of  Huacho  made  a  bargain  with  his  countrymen 


150  TRAVELS  IN  PERU 


that,  on  their  paying  him  weekly  a  medio  (the  sixteenth  part  of 
a  dollar),  he  would  defray  the  expenses  of  their  funerals.  By 
this  agreement  he  realized  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  The 
Cholos  made  it  a  condition  that  they  should  be  buried  in  coffins, 
which  is  not  common  with  the  lower  classes  in  Peru.  The  In- 
dian complied  with  this  condition.  When  a  Cholo  died,  a  coffin 
was  sent  to  his  residence.  If  too  short,  the  corpse  was  bent  and 
forced  into  it.  The  interment  then  took  place  according  to  the 
ritual  of  the  Church.  On  the  following  night  the  Indian  who 
had  contracted  for  the  burials  repaired  with  a  confidential  ser- 
vant to  the  churchyard,  dug  up  the  coffin,  threw  the  body  back 
into  the  grave,  and  carried  off  the  coffin,  with  the  mortaja  (the 
funeral  garment),  which  served  for  the  next  customer.  The  con- 
tractor made  each  coffin  last  as  long  as  the  boards  would  hold 
together.  This  system,  at  all  events,  secured  the  Cholos  against 
the  danger  of  being  buried  alive. 

The  churchyard  of  Huacho  presents  a  revolting  spectacle.  A 
low  wall  surrounds  a  space  of  sandy  ground,  which  is  strewed 
with  skulls,  bones,  fragments  of  burial  clothes,  and  mutilated 
human  bodies.  The  coffin  plunderer,  on  replacing  the  corpse  in 
the  grave,  merely  throws  some  loose  sand  over  it,  and  the  conse- 
quence is  that  the  remains  of  the  dead  frequently  become  the 
prey  of  dogs,  foxes,  and  other  carrion  feeders.  When  the  family 
of  a  deceased  person  can  contribute  nothing  to  defray  the  funeral 
expenses,  the  body  is  conveyed  privately  during  the  night  to  the 
churchyard.  In  the  morning  it  is  found  half  consumed. 

The  environs  of  Huacho  abound  in  fine  fruit  gardens,  and  pro- 
ductive Indian  farms.  The  climate  is  healthful,  though  very 
hot.  The  vicinity  of  the  sea  and  the  convenience  of  good  bath- 
ing would  render  it  an  agreeable  place  of  residence,  were  it  not 
infested  with  vermin.  Fleas  propagate  in  the  sand  in  almost 
incredible  multitudes,  especially  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Indi- 
an huts,  and  any  person  entering  them  is  in  a  moment  covered 
with  hundreds  of  those  tormentors.  Bugs,  too,  swarm  in  the 
lime  walls  ;  though  that  description  of  vermin  is  less  numerous 
in  Huacho  than  in  some  of  the  more  northern  towns. 

In  a  fine  valley,  about  two  short  leagues  from  Huacho,  the 
little  town  of  Huaura  is  situated  on  the  bank  of  a  river  of  the  same 


SUGAR  PLANTATIONS   AND  MILLS.  151 

name.  This  Rio  de  Huaura  is  formed  by  the  union  of  two  rivers. 
The  larger  of  the  two  rises  in  the  Cordillera  de  Paria,  and  flows 
through  the  wild  ravine  of  Chuichin :  the  smaller  river,  called 
the  Rio  Chico  de  Sayan,  rises  from  a  lake  of  considerable  size  in 
the  Altos  de  Huaquimarci.  Both  unite  below  the  village  of 
Sayan.  In  the  vicinity  of  Huaura  the  river  forms  several  marsh- 
es, in  which  malaria  is  generated.  In  very  few  places  have  I 
seen  the  stratum  of  malaria  so  distinctly  separated  from  the  at- 
mosphere as  here.  It  lies  at  an  average  about  two,  or  two  and 
a  half  feet  above  the  marsh,  and  is  carried  over  it  by  strong 
atmospheric  currents.  It  is  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  kind  of 
opalization,  and  on  certain  changes  of  light  it  exhibits  a  yellowish 
tint.  This  is  particularly  perceptible  in  the  morning,  on  coming 
down  from  the  high  grounds.  The  marshy  plain  then  appears 
overhung  with  a  thick  color-changing  sheet  of  malaria.  Malig. 
nant  intermittent  fever  and  diseases  of  the  skin  are  frequent  in 
Huaura.  The  town  is  thinly  peopled ;  the  number  of  inhabit- 
ants being  not  more  than  2000. 

A  great  sugar  plantation,  called  El  Ingenio,  is  situated  at  about 
a  quarter  of  a  league  from  Huaura.  It  formerly  belonged  to  the 
Jesuits,  but  is  now  the  property  of  a  rich  Lima  family.  The 
trapiche,  or  sugar-mill,  is  worked  by  a  water-wheel,  the  first  ever 
established  in  Peru,  a  circumstance  of  which  the  owner  proudly 
boasts. 

The  valley  which  opens  here  is  magnificent,  and  to  ride 
through  it  easterly  eleven  leagues  towards  Sayan  is  one  of  the 
finest  excursions  which  can  be  made  in  Peru.  Over  this  beauti- 
ful district  are  scattered  many  rich  plantations.  The  one  next  in 
importance  to  El  Ingenio  is  Acaray,  which,  though  not  very 
large,  is  most  carefully  cultivated  :  another,  called  Huillcahuau- 
ra,  has  a  splendid  building  erected  on  it.  In  the  middle  of  the 
valley  is  the  extensive  sugar  plantation  of  Luhmayo.  Near  this 
place  I  saw,  in  a  negro's  hut,  an  ounce  of  immense  size,  which 
had  been  killed  a  few  weeks  previously.  More  than  fifty  Negroes 
and  Indians  had  been  engaged  in  subduing  this  ferocious  animal, 
which  was  not  killed  until  after  a  conflict  of  two  days,  in  the 
course  of  which  several  negroes  were  dangerously  wounded. 
This  gigantic  specimen  measured,  from  the  snout  to  the  tip  of  the 


152  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

tail,  eight  feet  three  inches ;    the  tail  itself  measuring  two  feet 
eight  inches. 

At  the  sugar  works  of  Luhmayo,  notwithstanding  the  number 
of  pipes,  and  other  methods  of  supplying  water,  the  cylinders  are 
always  worked  by  oxen,  and  are  kept  in  motion  day  and  night. 
I  took  a  view  of  the  works  during  the  night,  and  the  extraordinary 
picture  I  beheld  will  never  be  effaced  from  my  memory.  In  the 
middle  of  the  spacious  building  appropriated  to  the  operations 
blazed  a  large  fire,  fed  by  the  refuse  of  sugar  canes.  Around 
lay  negroes,  some  asleep,  and  others  muttering  to  each  other  in 
an  under-tone.  Here  and  there  sat  one  perfectly  silent,  wrapped 
in  his  own  reflections,  and  apparently  brooding  over  some  gloomy 
plan.  The  oxen  paced  slowly  round  the  pole,  which  directed 
the  movement  of  the  cylinders ;  the  animals  alternately  disap- 
pearing in  the  obscure  background,  and  returning  to  the  point 
where  the  glare  of  the  fire,  falling  full  upon  them,  lighted  them  up 
as  if  by  the  sudden  effect  of  magic.  Behind  them  stalked  a  tall 
black  figure,  driving  them  on  with  a  rod  made  of  brambles. 
Groups  of  children  were  busily  employed  in  thrusting  the  full 
sugar  canes  between  the  cylinders ;  and  after  they  were  pressed, 
collecting  together  the  sapless  reeds,  and  piling  them  up  in  regu- 
lar heaps. 

Next  morning  the  person  who  officiated  as  medical  superintend- 
ant  of  the  plantation,  showed  me  all  the  arrangements  of  the 
establishment.  He  gave  me  an  account  of  his  cures  and  opera- 
tions, and  told  me  that  he  often  found  it  necessary  to  amputate, 
because  the  slaves  purposely  injure  their  fingers  and  arms  in 
the  Phalangdes  (machines)  in  order  to  disable  themselves.  The 
worthy  ^Esculapius  had  never  in  his  life  read  a  regular  medical 
work.  He  had  originally  been  an  overseer  of  slaves,  and  had 
afterwards  turned  doctor.  He  informed  me  that  some  time  be- 
fore I  saw  him,  ninety  negroes,  his  patients,  had  died  of  small- 
pox in  the  space  of  nine  months,  whereby  the  owner  of  the  plant- 
ation had  lost  45,000  dollars.  The  hospital  was  clean  and  well 
fitted  up,  but  over-crowded  with  sick.  Most  of  them  died  from 
intermitting  fever,  and  from  dropsy  and  rheumatism  which 
followed  it.  Not  a  few  of  the  male  negroes  suffer  from  a  peculiar 
kind  of  cutaneous  disease,  which  shows  itself  by  large  pustules 


A  SPORTSMAN  AND  HIS  HOUNDS.  153 

on  the  arms  and  breast.  After  suppuration  they  dry  and  fall  off, 
but  leave  indelible  spots,  which,  on  a  black  skin,  are  of  a  whitish 
color ;  on  a  brown  skin,  olive-green,  and  on  a  white  skin,  black. 
I  never  saw  the  disease  in  any  other  part  of  the  country  except 
in  this  valley.  Negroes  and  persons  of  mixed  blood  are  more 
subject  to  it  than  the  whites. 

The  two  plantations  on  the  east  side  of  the  valley  are  Cham- 
bara  and  Quipico.  The  latter  is  celebrated  for  the  fine  sugar 
it  produces,  and  is  also  well  known  on  account  of  the  original 
character  of  its  late  proprietor,  Castilla.  When  I  rode  into  the 
court,  I  was  in  a  moment  surrounded  by  about  fifty  fine  grey- 
hounds, and  from  every  side  others  came  springing  forward. 
This  was  but  a  remnant  of  Castilla's  collection.  He  was  pas- 
sionately devoted  to  hunting,  and  generally  kept  from  200  to 
300  greyhounds,  with  which  he  rode  out  daily.  A  bell  was  rung 
at  certain  hours  to  collect  the  light-footed  tribe  to  their  meals. 
A  gallows  was  erected  in  the  court,  where  the  intractable  under- 
went capital  punishment  as  a  warning  to  the  rest.  One  day 
when  Castilla  went  out  to  hunt,  he  was  joined  in  the  chase  by 
an  Indian,  who  brought  with  him  a  common  mongrel.  This  ani- 
mal outstripped  some  of  the  greyhounds  in  speed,  and  quickly 
overtook  the  deer.  Castilla  immediately  bought  the  dog,  for 
which  he  gave  the  immense  price  of  350  dollars.  A  few  days 
after  he  rode  out  to  hunt  with  his  best  greyhounds,  together  with 
the  newly-purchased  dog.  The  pack  being  let  loose,  all  the 
dogs  set  off  in  full  chase,  but  the  mongrel  remained  quietly  be- 
side the  horses.  On  returning  to  the  plantation,  he  was  hung  up 
on  the  gallows  as  a  warning  example. 

To  the  north  of  Huacho,  the  Pampa  del  medio  mundo,  a  sand 
plain,  seven  leagues  long,  stretches  out  to  the  village  of  Supe. 
At  short  successive  distances  farther  to  the  north  are  the  villages 
of  Baranca,  Pativilca  (or  rather  Pati  Huillca),  and  la  Fortakza. 
Then  there  intervenes  a  vast  waste,  which  extends  nearly  to 
Huarmay.  Between  that  village  and  the  Port  of  Casma  there 
is  a  similar  long  plain  of  sand.  Thus  do  wastes,  and  fruitful 
valleys,  alternate  along  the  whole  coast  until  near  Tumbez,  on 
the  frontiers  of  the  Republic  of  the  Ecuador. 

The  whole  district  is  rich  in  memorable  monuments  of  the 
8* 


154  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


time  of  the  Incas.  The  most  important  are  the  remains  of  the 
palace  of  King  Chimu  Cancha,  not  far  from  the  harbor  of  Huan- 
chaco,  and  the  ruins  of  Paramanca,  near  la  Fortaleza.  Doctor 
Unanue*  is  of  opinion  that  the  latter  edifice  was  built  to  com- 
memorate the  peace  between  King  Chimu  Cancha  and  his  con- 
queror, Capac  Yupanqui ;  and  that  of  two  other  buildings,  one 
(the  larger),  situated  towards  the  east,  marks  the  dominions  of 
the  powerful  Inca  Pachacutec,  and  the  other  (the  smaller),  to- 
wards the  west,  indicates  the  territory  of  the  conquered  Chimu. 
This  supposition  is,  in  my  opinion,  quite  erroneous.  Indepen- 
dently of  the  plainly-recognizable  character  of  those  ruins,  the 
construction  of  which  shows  them  to  have  been  fortifications, 
their  situation  bears  evidence  against  the  inference  of  Unanue. 
Supposing  the  larger  building  to  have  indicated  the  position  of  the 
Inca  Empire,  it  ought  to  have  been  situated  to  the  south,  and  the 
smaller  building  would  have  been  to  the  north.  The  only  passa- 
ble road  along  the  coast  led  between  these  two  fortified  hills  ; 
and  by  them  the  road  on  that  side  to  the  Kingdom  of  Chimu 
could  be  cut  off.  The  Incas  well  knew,  from  experience,  that 
the  subdued  populations,  usually  after  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time, 
again  revolted,  and  endeavored  to  shake  off  their  yoke,  and 
therefore  they  were  on  their  guard  against  such  an  occurrence. 
Capac  Yupanqui  must  have  greatly  mistrusted  an  enemy  so  for- 
midable as  Chimu  Cancha,  who  had  only  yielded  after  the  most 
obstinate  resistance,  and  it  is  no  slight  proof  of  this  that  Para- 
manca')'  was  built  as  a  fortress  to  hold  the  subjugated  nations  in 
check.  It  was  not,  however,  built  as  a  monument  of  victory, 
for  such  monuments  were  always  erected  in  Cozco,  the  capital, 
and  never  on  the  field  of  battle.  Etymology  affords  no  solution 
of  this  question.  Some  write  Paramonga,  others  Paramanca. 
I  regard  the  latter  as  the  most  correct.  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega 

*  Nuevo  dia  del  Peru.     1824. 

f  According  to  some  ancient  authors  Paramanca  was  built  by  King 
Chimu  as  a  frontier  fortress  against  the  neighboring  nations.  There  is 
some  foundation  for  this  view  of  the  subject,  as  Chimu  Cancha  had,  long 
before  he  was  attacked  by  Capac  Yupanqui,  carried  on  war  most  fiercely 
with  Cuyz  Mancu,  King  of  Pacchacama,  and  Chuquiz  Mancu,  King  of  Ru- 
nahuanac  (the  present  Lunahuana). 


^^          THE  SALINAS  OF  HUACHO.  155 

calls  the  valley  Parmunca.  In  the  Quichua  dialect  Paramanca* 
signifies  a  pot  for  rain.  It  is  therefore  possible  that  the  name 
may  indicate  an  allusion  to  heavy  torrents  of  rain,  which,  though 
now  unusual  on  this  particular  part  of  the  coast,  may  have  oc- 
curred in  this  basin-like  valley  after  a  great  earthquake. 

Five  leagues  to  the  south  of  Huacho  are  the  extensive  Salinas, 
or  salt  pits,  which  supply  Peru  and  Chile  with  excellent  salt. 
They  spread  from  the  sea  coast  to  the  distance  of  half  a  league 
eastward,  and  present  a  most  extraordinary  aspect.  On  ap- 
proaching them  the  traveller  might  fancy  he  beholds  a  field  of 
glaciers,  on  which  the  sun's  rays  produce  wonderful  effects  of 
variegated  color. 

This  salt  is  the  produce  of  a  natural  evaporation  of  the  sea 
water,  which  trickles  through  the  porous  stones  of  the  coast,  and 
fills  every  intervening  hollow.  The  whole  space  is  parcelled 
into  divisions,  called  fields,  from  which,  according  to  a  definite 
regulation,  square  masses,  weighing  each  one  hundred  pounds, 
are  cut.  In  a  few  days  the  holes  are  again  filled  up  with  sea 
water,  which,  in  the  space  of  twelve  to  sixteen,  or  sometimes 
twenty  to  twenty-four  months,  being  evaporated  by  the  sun, 
leaves  a  precipitate  completely  filling  up  the  square  holes.  The 
government  has  farmed  the  salinas  to  a  private  individual  in 
Huacho,  who  keeps  on  the  spot  an  overseer  with  the  necessary 
number  of  laborers.  This  establishment  is  an  inexhaustible 
source  of  wealth,  and  it  can  only  be  destroyed  by  a  violent  earth- 
quake. In  the  bay  on  which  the  salinas  border  there  is  very 
convenient  and  secure  anchoring  ground,  where  coasters  are  con- 
stantly lying,  ready  to  receive  the  salt,  and  convey  it  to  any  Pe-^ 
ruvian  or  Chilean  port.  Most  of  the  laborers  employed  in  the 
salinas  suffer  from  diseases  of  the  skin  and  rheumatism.  Water 
and  provisions  have  to  be  brought  from  Huacho.  The  Indians, 
when  they  come  from  the  mountains  to  convey  salt,  never  take 
their  llamas  to  the  salinas.  They  go  straight  to  Huacho,  where 
the  animals  are  loaded  at  the  great  dep6ts.  Each  llama  carries 
the  weight  of  one  hundred  pounds,  which,  however,  is  not,  like 
ordinary  burthens,  laid  on  the  bare  back  of  the  animal — beneath 
it  is  placed  a  layer  of  thick  woollen  cloth,  called  a  jerga. 

*  Para  (rain)  Manca  (pot). 


156  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


The  road  southward  from  the  Salinas  runs,  for  the  distance  of 
nine  leagues,  through  deep  sand,  chiefly  along  the  sea-coast,  and 
is  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Lomas  de  Lachay.  Here  flocks  of 
strand  snipes  and  flamingoes  fly  constantly  before  the  traveller, 
as  if  to  direct  his  course.  In  the  pescadores  (fishermen's  huts), 
five  leagues  from  the  Salinas,  brackish  water  and  broiled  fish 
may  be  obtained,  and  sometimes  even  clover,  which  is  brought 
hither,  from  the  distance  of  several  miles,  to  feed  the  hungry 
horses.  From  the  pescadores  the  road  crosses  steep  sand-hills, 
which  rise  from  three  to  four  hundred  feet  high,  and  fall  with  a 
declivity  of  more  than  sixty  degrees  towards  the  sea.  The  road 
leads  along  the  side  of  these  hills,  and,  where  the  ground  is  not 
firm,  it  is  exceedingly  dangerous.  On  a  false  step  of  the  horse 
the  ground  yields  beneath  his  hoof,  and  rolls  down  the  declivity ; 
but  by  due  care  the  rider  can  easily  recover  a  solid  footing. 
There  is  on  one  of  these  hills  a  very  large  stone,  which  at  a  cer- 
tain distance  presents  in  color  and  form  a  deceptious  similarity 
to  an  enormous-sized  seal.  Almost  perpendicularly  under  it  is 
a  small  bay,  inhabited  by  a  multitude  of  seals.  The  dull  crash- 
ing sound  made  by  the  breakers  on  the  shore,  mingling  with  the 
howling  of  these  animals,  makes  a  gloomy  impression  on  the  tra- 
veller who  is  passing  along  the  height  above  them,  and  creates  a 
sort  of  shuddering  sensation.  The  natives  call  this  place  and  its 
sounds  the  Grita  Lobos  (the  Sea-dog's  Howl).  From  this  hilly 
ground  the  road  descends  into  the  fruitful  valley  of  the  Pasamayo, 
which  contains  two  villages  and  eighteen  plantations. 

Chancay,  the  principal  town  in  this  valley,  is  the  residence  of  a 
sub-prefect.  It  is  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  river,  and  a  short 
league  from  the  sea,  where  there  is  an  inconsiderable  and  not  very 
safe  port,  which  can  only  be  entered  by  small  vessels.  The  num- 
ber of  inhabitants  is  about  1200,  chiefly  Indians  and  Mulattos. 
Excellent  fruits  and  vegetables,  good  beef,  mutton,  and  poultry, 
and  well-flavored  fish,  are  found  here  in  abundance.  The  houses 
are  all  of  the  poorest  structure,  and  are  sparingly  and  rudely  fur- 
nished. In  the  neighboring  farms,  some  of  which  are  large,  as 
Torreblanco,  Pasamayo,  &c.,  maize  is  extensively  cultivated  for 
exportation  and  for  food  to  the  swine,  which  are  very  numerous. 
In  no  other  valley  of  Peru  are  there  so  many  earth-fleas,  or  piques, 


THE  PIQUES.  157 


as  they  are  called,  particularly  about  the  plantations.  The  pique 
is  a  small,  white  insect,  which  lives  in  sand,  but  fastens  as  a  para- 
site on  man  and  beast,  more  particularly  on  swine.  It  attacks 
man  by  penetrating  the  skin,  for  the  most  part  under  the  toe- 
nails,  where  an  egg  is  laid,  from  which  a  painful  tumor  is  after- 
wards formed.  Should  this  be  neglected,  the  brood  is  developed, 
and  penetrates  further  into  the  flesh.  Then  follow  violent  in- 
flammations and  imposthumes,  which  sometimes  assume  so  serious 
a  character  that  the  amputation  of  the  foot  becomes  necessary. 
While  the  pique  is  penetrating  there  is  no  sensation  of  its  pre- 
sence ;  it  is  first  felt  on  the  development  of  the  egg,  and  then  it 
is  still  easy  to  remove  the  bag  which  contains  it,  and  the  mother 
with  it.  The  Negresses  accomplish  this  with  great  dexterity. 
They  make  an  aperture  in  the  skin  by  scratching  it  with  a 
needle,  and  then  they  draw  the  bag  out.  Should  it  burst,  they 
take  out  the  egg  with  the  needle ;  but  this  is  a  very  delicate 
operation.  I  have  always  been  able  to  do  it  more  speedily  and 
more  securely  with  the  lancet.  The  hole  is  commonly  of  the 
size  of  a  bean,  and  hot  cigar  ashes  are  put  into  it  to  destroy 
any  eggs  or  larvae  which  may  remain.  These  insects  do  not 
always  confine  themselves  to  the  feet;  they  sometimes  attack 
the  body  and  the  face,  and  it  is  in  general  extremely  difficult  for 
the  patient  to  discover  how  or  where  he  became  acquainted  with 
such  troublesome  companions.  I  once  had  six  tumors,  caused 
by  broods  of  piques,  on  my  right  foot,  and  I  could  not  trace  the 
annoyance  to  any  other  cause  than  having  stopped  for  a  few 
minutes,  while  my  horse  was  being  saddled,  in  the  corral,  or 
yard,  of  a  plantation. 

The  road  from  Chancay  to  the  Haciendas  of  Bisquira,  Anda- 
huasi,  and  the  village  of  Sayan,  extends  in  a  northeasterly  direc- 
tion, through  a  dreary  valley  of  sand,  between  rows  of  sterile 
hillocks  of  the  most  singular  forms.  I  had  once  to  travel  along 
twelve  leagues  of  this  wearisome  road,  under  the  most  oppressive 
heat  of  the  sun.  The  mules  were  quite  overcome,  and  when 
we  reached  the  Cuesta  de  los  ahorcados  (the  hill  of  the  hanged) 
they  would  not  move  another  step.  We  had  to  descend  and 
give  them  a  long  rest.  We  stretched  ourselves  under  the  bellies 
of  the  animals,  the  only  shade  we  could  get  in  this  treeless  waste. 


158  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


At  last,  after  a  very  difficult  journey,  during  which  we  lost  our- 
selves in  a  marsh  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bisquira,  we  arrived 
about  midnight  at  Andahuasi.  On  this  road,  only  two  leagues 
from  Chancay,  near  the  Hacienda  of  Chancayllo,  are  situated 
the  Colcas,  most  remarkable  subterraneous  structures,  of  the 
time  of  the  Incas.  According  to  tradition,  they  were  built  by 
the  Yuncas,  during  the  campaign  of  Capac  Yupanqui  against 
Chimu  Cancha,  as  provision  magazines  for  the  numerous  army, 
more  than  120,000  strong. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  Pasamayo,  on  the  north  bank,  there  are 
some  salinas,  which,  however,  are  far  more  inconsiderable  than 
those  of  Huacho. 

The  first  time  I  went  from  Huacho  to  Lima,  I  wished  to  pass 
over  the  whole  road,  twenty-eight  leagues,  in  one  uninterrupted 
ride ;  accordingly  I  left  Huacho  at  two  o'clock,  P.  M.,  in  order 
that  I  might  cross  the  great  sand-flats  during  the  night.  A  negro 
who  knew  the  road  accompanied  me.  We  passed  through  Chan- 
cay  at  midnight.  Some  muleteers,  lying  before  a  hut,  called  to 
us,  and  warned  us  to  stop,  as  the  river  had  swelled  very  much. 
Nevertheless  we  proceeded  onward,  and  by  one  o'clock  we 
reached  the  Pasamayo,  which,  in  consequence  of  the  heavy  rains 
from  the  mountains,  had  overflowed  its  banks.  Several  travellers 
had  stretched  themselves  on  the  ground  to  wait  for  the  morning 
light,  and  in  the  hope  that  the  flood  would  by  that  time  subside. 
No  Chimbadores*  were  to  be  had.  *  My  negro  guide  looked  at 
the  water  with  dismay,  and  declared  that  he  had  never  before 
witnessed  so  furious  a  swell.  However,  we  had  no  time  to  lose, 
and  I  resolved  to  attempt  the  passage  of  the  river.  Trusting  to 
my  well  tried  horse,  which  had  already  carried  me  safely  through 
many  difficult  coasting  journeys,  I  cautiously  rode  into  the  river, 
which  became  deeper  at  every  step.  The  overwhelming  force 
of  the  stream  was  felt  by  my  horse ;  and  he  presently  lost  his 
footing,  though  he  still  continued  to  struggle  vigorously  against 
the  force  of  the  current.  At  this  juncture,  some  passing  clouds 
obscured  the  moon,  and  I  lost  sight  of  a  group  of  trees  which, 
before  leaving  the  opposite  bank,  I  fixed  my  eye  upon  as  a  guiding 

*  Guides,  who  conduct  travellers  across  rivers,  being  well  acquainted 
with  the  fords.  They  are  also  called  Vadeadores. 


'i'HE  PALO  SECO  AND  THE  PIEDRAS  GORDAS.  159 

beacon.  Quite  powerless,  my  horse  and  I  were  carried  away  by 
the  stream,  and  driven  against  a  rock  in  the  middle  of  the  river. 
I  now  heard  the  anxious  outcries  of  my  negro  and  the  travellers 
on  the  bank,  whilst  the  waves  rose  over  my  head.  With  a  con- 
vulsive effort  I  pulled  the  bridle,  and  the  horse  then  turning  com- 
pletely round,  once  more  gained  his  solid  footing.  I  then  gave 
him  the  spur,  and  the  courageous  animal  dashing  again  into  the 
midst  of  the  current,  swam  with  me  to  the  bank.  I  rode  forward 
with  my  negro  in  search  of  a  better  fording-place,  and  after  seve- 
ral fruitless  attempts,  we  at  length  found  one,  and  we  crossed  the 
river  safely.  The  other  travellers  did  not  venture  to  follow  our 
example,  but  called  out  begging  us  not  to  leave  them  behind.  I 
sent  the  negro  back  on  my  horse  to  bring  them  over ;  and  the 
noble  animal  went  backward  and  forward  no  less  than  seven  times 
without  making  one  false  step.  '  After  all  this  exertion,  he  bore 
me  with  unflagging  spirit  into  Lima,  where  we  arrived  at  noon 
on  the  following  day. 

From  the  Pasamayo,  the  road  runs  for  the  space  of  two  leagues 
tolerably  level,  and  for  the  most  part  amidst  plantations.  Then 
succeed  steep  sandy  hills,  for  the  distance  of  about  four  leagues. 
The  roads  are  very  wearisome  both  to  horse  and  rider,  especially 
in  the  declivities  towards  the  plains,  where  the  horse  is  frequently 
over  his  knees  in  sand.  In  those  parts  there  are  also  some  ex- 
traordinary atmospheric  mirrors,  in  which  we  beheld  ourselves 
in  reflection,  riding  over  our  t>wn  heads,  and  our  figures  magni- 
fied to  gigantic  proportions.  Six  leagues  from  Chancay,  there 
are  two  wretched  huts,  forming  the  tambo,  or  inn,  in  which  tra- 
vellers obtain  refreshment.  From  thence  the  road  runs  through 
a  stony  tract,  partially  strewn  with  large  masses  of  rock,  called 
the  Piedras  gordas,  and  leading  to  the  marshes  which  surround 
the  Copacahuana  plantations.  Two  leagues  further  on  is  the 
river  Chillon,  which,  like  the  Pasamayo,  may  generally  be  easily 
forded,  but  which  swells  furiously  during  heavy  falls  of  rain. 
At  a  short  distance  behind  the  river,  the  road,  called  the  Camino 
de  Valles,  joins  that  leading  to  Cerro  de  Pasco.  About  a  league 
from  Lima  there  is  a  place  called  Palo  seco,  which,  like  Piedras 
gordas,  is  a  celebrated  haunt  of  robbers.  The  traveller  has  rea. 
son  to  congratulate  himself  if  he  passes  these  two  places  without 
an  attack. 


160  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Coast  southward  of  Lima — Chilca — Curious  Cigar  cases  made  there — 
Yauyos — Pisco — Journey  to  Yea — A  night  on  the  Sand  Plains — Fatal 
Catastrophe  in  the  year  1823 — Vine  Plantations  at  Yea — Brandy  and 
Wine — Don  Domingo  Elias — Vessels  for  transporting  Brandy  (Botijas 
and  odres) — Cruel  mode  of  skinning  Goats — Negro  Carnival — Peculiar 
species  of  Guinea  Pig — The  Salamanqueja — Cotton  Plantations — Que- 
brada  of  Huaitara — Sangallan — Guano — Retrospect  of  the1  Peruvian  Coast 
— Rivers — Medanos — Winds — Change  of  Seasons — the  Garuas — The  Lo- 
mas — Mammalia — Birds — Amphibia. 

THE  coast,  southward  of  Lima,  is  similar  in  aspect,  climate,  and 
character,  to  those  parts  north  of  the  city  which  have  just  been 
described.  Fruitful  valleys,  villages,  and  plantations,  commo- 
dious sea-ports,  and  vast  sandy  wastes,  alternate  one  with  the 
other.  Heat,  sometimes  almost  insupportable,  is  succeeded  by 
chilly  and  unhealthy  mists ;  whilst  here  and  there  the  scattered 
monuments  of  the  wealth  and  greatness  of  bygone  ages  present 
a  remarkable  and  painful  contrast  to  present  poverty  and  misery. 
Proceeding  southward  of  Lima  by  way  of  Lurin,  we  arrive  at 
Chilca,  a  wretched  village  situated  on  a  soil  which  affords  no- 
thing to  supply  the  wants  of  human  existence.  It  appears  an 
incomprehensible  mystery  that  man  should  have  fixed  his  abode 
on  a  spot  where  Nature  has  granted  nothing  for  his  nourishment, 
not  even  a  drop  of  pure  water  ;  whilst  at  the  distance  of  a  few 
miles,  luxuriant  valleys  offer,  spontaneously,  those  products  which 
the  most  laborious  toil  must  fail  to  extort  from  the  ungrateful  soil 
of  Chilca.  The  hope  of  wealth  from  commercial  speculation  or 
mining  industry  has  peopled  many  inhospitable  shores,  and  has 
raised  populous  towns  on  barren  deserts  ;  but  at  Chilca  there  are 
no  such  stimuli  of  interests.  Nevertheless,  they  may  possibly 
have  existed  in  former  ages,  for  the  numerous  ruins  scattered 


CHILCA  AND  ITS  INHABITANTS.  161 

around  the  village  tend  to  confirm  the  opinion  that  the  population 
was  very  extensive  under  the  government  of  the  Incas.  The 
force  of  custom  and  of  local  attachment  which  frequently  chains 
man  to  the  spot  where  his  progenitors  have  lived  happily,  is  all 
that  can  bind  the  natives  of  Chilca  to  their  miserable  dwelling- 
place.  In  few  villages,  as  in  Chilca,  have  the  Indians  for  more 
than  300  years  so  carefully  avoided  mixing  with  people  of  other 
races.  They  employ  themselves  in  plaiting  straw  for  hats  and 
cigar-cases.  The  latter  they  make  in  a  singularly  beautiful 
style  with  white  and  colored  straw,  which  they  plait  into  various 
figures  and  patterns — sometimes  into  names,  and  even  lines  of 
poetry.  Some  of  these  cigar-cases  sell  for  upwards  of  a  hun- 
dred dollars.  Fishing  is  a  less  profitable  occupation  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Chilca,  or,  as  they  are  called  in  the  country,  the  Chilque- 
nos  ;  for,  owing  to  the  great  distance,  only  certain  kinds  of  fish 
can  be  sent  to  the  Lima  market.  Near  the  village  there  is  a 
bed  of  very  strong  red-colored  salt,  which  is  exported  to  the 
mountains,  but  which  sells  at  a  lower  price  than  the  salt  of 
Huacho. 

Five  leagues  south  of  Chilca,  on  the  river  of  the  same  name, 
lies  the  village  called  Canete,  which  is  the  residence  of  a  Sub- 
prefect.  The  very  interesting  province  of  Yauyos  extends  from 
this  village  in  an  easterly  direction  towards  the  Cordilleras. 
The  inhabitants  of  this  province  are  distinguishable  by  their 
faces  and  figures,  and  also  by  their  manners  and  language,  from 
the  Indians  of  the  coast  and  the  mountains.  In  stature  they  are 
small.  They  have  expanded  foreheads,  animated  eyes,  promi- 
nent cheek-bones,  and  wide  mouths.  Their  limbs  are  slender, 
and  their  skin  is  of  a  swarthy  brown.  Their  dialect,  the  Cauqui, 
contains  many  radical  words  of  the  Quichua  language.  After 
this  nation  was  subjugated  by  the  Incas  their  language  was  so 
intermixed  with  others,  that  it  is  now  very  difficult  to  trace  out 
its  origin.  It  appears  to  be  totally  different  from  the  Chinchay- 
suyo  language. 

Some  very  considerable  sugar  plantations,  and  several  villages, 
lie  between  Canete  and  Pisco.  Among  the  villages,  Lunahuana 
and  Chincha  (upper  and  lower)  are  celebrated  for  their  great  fer- 
tility. Two  rivers,  at  the  distance  of  five  leagues  from  each 


162  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


other,  flow  in  a  parallel  direction  between  Chincha  and  Pisco, 
and  to  their  waters  the  valleys  are  indebted  for  their  rich  vegeta- 
tion. On  account  of  their  width  these  rivers  can  only  be  passed 
with  the  assistance  of  Chimbadores,  and  many  travellers  annually 
perish  in  their  incautious  attempts  to  ford  them.  The  little  town 
of  Pisco  is  on  the  left  bank  of  the  south  river,  and  half  a  league 
from  it  there  is  a  secure  harbor  with  good  anchoring  ground. 
This  town  has  acquired  some  importance  by  the  exportation  of 
brandy ;  and  it  has  recently  become  more  active  and  populous 
owing  to  the  near  vicinity  of  the  Guano  islands.  The  custom- 
house and  the  port  captain's  office  are  on  the  shore,  where  there 
is  also  a  large  building  erected  by  Don  Domingo  Elias,  for  a 
brandy  depot.  The  little  town  of  Pisco  has  suffered  much  from 
the  plundering  attacks  of  European  pirates,  from  earthquakes, 
and  more  recently  from  the  War  of  Independence.  Several 
parts  of  it  have  been  rebuilt.  Within  the  few  last  years  much 
has  been  done  in  the  way  of  improving  and  ornamenting  it.  A 
broad  trench  has  been  dug  round  the  town,  serving  the  purpose 
of  drainage,  and  thereby  greatly  contributing  to  preserve  the 
health  of  the  place.  Pisco  is  merely  the  key  to  the  large  in- 
terior town  of  Yea,  which  is  fourteen  leagues  distant.  I  visited 
it  in  the  year  1842.  The  steamer  conveyed  me  in  eighteen 
hours  from  Callao  to  Pisco,  where  I  hired  horses  and  a  guide. 
He  was  a  Catalonian,  who  had  frequently  travelled  to  Yea. 

At  three  o'clock,  p.  M.,  we  left  Pisco.  At  first  the  road  passed 
over  very  hard  ground,  then  through  deep  sand,  which  continued 
till  we  got  to  Yea.  Notwithstanding  the  heat,  which  in  the  month 
of  February  is  insupportable,  I  was  wrapped  up  in  my  woollen 
poncho.  Experience  had  taught  me  that  in  the  hotter  districts 
the  change  of  temperature  which  takes  place  at  night,  and  causes 
fever,  is  least  injurious  when  the  traveller  is  protected  in  warm 
clothing.  My  Catalonian  guide,  who,  with  his  arms  covered 
merely  by  his  shirt  sleeves,  nevertheless  suffered  greatly  from 
the  heat,  could  not  comprehend  why  I  had  chosen  such  a  dress. 
When  I  informed  him  that  eleven  days  before  I  had,  in  the  same 
clothing,  passed  a  night  on  the  Cordilleras,  in  the  midst  of  snow, 
he  shook  his  head  in  token  of  incredulity.  Whilst  the  bell  rang 
for  evening  prayers  we  rode  into  the  Huilla  Curin  Plantation, 


CATASTROPHE  IN  THE  SAND  PLAINS.  163 

which  is  surrounded  by  a  charming  grove  of  palm  trees.  We 
stopped  for  a  few  moments  to  gather  some  excellent  figs.  About 
midnight  a  heavy  fog  spread  over  the  plain,  and  veiled  from  our 
sight  a  cross  on  the  south,  which  had  hitherto  served  to  keep  us 
in  the  right  direction.  We,  however,  advanced  about  a  league 
farther.  The  Catalonian  then  often  alighted  to  smell  the  sand,  in 
order  to  ascertain  whether  we  were  taking  the  proper  course. 
This  is  a  very  good  practical  method  ;  for  in  deserts  through 
which  caravans  frequently  pass,  the  dung  of  the  beasts  of  bur- 
then mixed  with  the  sand  affords  a  sure  indication  of  the  track. 
When  we  had  got  about  three  quarters  of  a  league  farther  on, 
we  came  close  against  a  rock,  which  my  guide — in  whose  ac- 
quaintance with  the  locality  I  had  the  most  unbounded  confi- 
dence— declared  was  quite  unknown  to  him.  There  was  there- 
fore no  doubt  that  we  had  got  out  of  the  right  course.  I  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  on  examining,  by  its  feeble  light,  my  pocket  com- 
pass, I  discovered  that  instead  of  keeping  to  the  south-east  we 
had  diverged  to  the  west.  As  there  was  now  no  hope  that  the 
fog  would  clear  away  before  day-break,  we  rolled  ourselves  in 
the  warm  sand,  to  await  the  coming  morning. 

I  afterwards  learned  that  in  this  very  spot  numerous  travellers 
had  lost  their  way,  and  had  perished  of  thirst.  In  the  year  1823, 
a  ship  stranded  on  this  coast,  with  three  hundred  and  twenty 
dragoons  on  board,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Lavalle.  The 
soldiers  succeeded  in  getting  ashore,  but  thirty-six  hours  after- 
wards they  were  lost  in  this  sandy  desert.  When  intelligence 
of  the  shipwreck  reached  Pisco,  a  cavalry  regiment  was  despatched 
to  search  for  the  sufferers,  and  to  supply  them  with  provisions 
and  water  ;  but  when  they  were  found  it  was  discovered  that  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  men  had  died  from  fatigue  and  thirst,  and  a 
few  days  after  fifty  more  perished  from  exhaustion.  It  is  gene- 
rally supposed  that  a  healthy  man  can  live  four  or  five  days  un- 
supplied  with  food  and  drink.  In  the  temperate  climate  of  Europe, 
and  with  bodily  rest,  this,  perhaps,  may  be  the  case  ;  but  in  the 
burning  wastes  of  Peru  to  be  deprived  of  nourishment  for  only 
forty-eight  hours,  and  at  the  same  time  to  wander  about  in  deep 
sand,  would  be  followed  by  certain  death.  Severe  thirst  is  the 
most  horrible  of  torments,  especially  when  the  body  is  surrounded 


164  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


by  a  medium  altogether  of  an  arid  nature.  At  sea  it  can  be 
much  longer  endured  than  on  a  surface  of  sand. 

When  the  grey  dawn  of  morning  appeared  we  again  mounted 
our  horses,  and  rode  by  my  compass  in  the  direction  of  E.S.E. 
After  riding  a  few  leagues,  we  turned  an  acute  angle,  which 
brought  us  into  the  main  road,  and  we  arrived  that  forenoon  in 
Yea. 

On  my  return  I  so  arranged  my  journey  as  to  pass  the  night 
in  Huilla  Curin,  where  the  horses  were  supplied  with  forage, 
consisting  of  the  shoots  and  leaves  of  the  Mastick-tree  (schinus 
molle). 

Yea  is  a  moderately  large  and  very  agreeably  situated  town. 
Like  most  of  the  larger  towns  on  the  coast  it  is  peopled  with 
inhabitants  of  all  colors,  particularly  Mestizos.  It  is  the  resi- 
dence of  a  sub-prefect  and  many  rich  planters.  Scarcely  any- 
thing but  the  vine  is  cultivated  in  the  Haciendas  of  the  environs ; 
and  this  branch  of  husbandry  contributes  greatly  to  enrich  the 
province.  It  is  astonishing  to  see  with  what  facility  the  vine 
thrives  in  a  soil  apparently  so  unfruitful.  The  young  shoots  are 
stuck  into  the  sand  almost  half  a  foot  deep,  then  tied  up  and  left 
to  themselves.  They  quickly  take  root  and  shoot  forth  leaves. 
Whilst  the  surrounding  country  bears  the  appearance  of  a  desert, 
the  vineyards  of  Yea  are  clothed  in  delightful  verdure.  The 
grapes  are  of  superior  quality,  very  succulent  and  sweet.  The 
greater  part  are  used  for  making  brandy,  which  is  extremely 
good  and  very  well  flavored.  All  Peru  and  a  great  part  of  Chile 
are  supplied  with  this  liquor  from  the  Vale  of  Yea.  The  com- 
mon brandy  is  called  Aguardiente  de  Pisco,  because  it  is  shipped 
at  that  port.  A  kind  of  brandy  of  superior  quality,  and  much 
dearer,  made  from  Muscatel  grapes,  is  called  Aguardiente  de 
Italia.  It  is  distinguished  by  a  very  exquisite  flavor.  Very 
little  wine  is  made  at  Yea.  In  some  plantations  they  make  a 
thick  dark-brown  kind,  which  is  very  sweet,  and  much  liked  by 
the  Peruvians,  though  not  very  agreeable  to  a  European  palate. 
Only  one  planter,  Don  Domingo  Elias,*  the  richest  and  most 

*  Elias  is  eminent  not  only  as  an  extensive  landowner  and  cultivator,  but 
as  a  statesman.  During  the  revolution  of  1843  and  1844,  he  was  called 
upon  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  the  government.  He  discharged  the 


YCA  BRANDY.  165 


speculative  cultivator  on  the  whole  coast,  makes  wine  in  the 
European  manner.  It  is  very  like  the  wine  of  Madeira  and 
Teneriffe,  only  it  is  more  fiery,  and  contains  a  more  considerable 
quantity  of  alcohol.  Specimens  which  have  been  sent  to  Europe 
have  obtained  the  unqualified  approbation  of  connoisseurs.  The 
flavor  is  considerably  improved  by  a  long  sea  voyage. 

The  brandy,  which  is  exported  by  sea,  is  put  into  large  ves- 
sels made  of  clay,  called  botijas.  In  form  they  are  like  a  pear, 
the  broad  ends  being  downwards.  At  the  top  there  is  a  small 
aperture,  which  is  hermetically  closed  with  gypsum.  The  large 
botija  when  filled  weighs  six  or  seven  arobas.  Two  are  a  load 
for  a  mule.  To  the  pack-saddle,  or  aparejo,  two  baskets  are 
fastened,  in  which  the  botijas  are  placed  with  the  small  ends 
downwards.  These  botijas  were  formerly  also  used  for  conveying 
the  brandy  across  the  mountains ;  but,  in  consequence  of  the 
dangerous,  slippery  roads,  over  which  the  mules  often  fell,  many 
were  broken.  Still  greater  damage  was  sustained  at  the  springs 
and  wells  on  the  coast,  for  the  poor  animals,  after  their  long 
journeys  through  the  sandy  wastes,  rushed,  on  perceiving  water, 
in  full  flight  to  the  springs.  As  it  happens  that  there  is  often  room 
for  only  five  or  six  mules,  and  from  seventy  to  eighty  were  often 
pressing  forward,  a  great  number  of  the  bolijas  were  unavoidably 
dashed  to  pieces  in  spite  of  all  the  caution  the  arrieros  could 
exercise.  The  annual  loss  of  brandy  was  immense,  and  to  coun- 
teract this  evil,  bags  of  goatskin  were  introduced.  These  skins 
are  now  generally  used  for  the  conveyance  of  brandy  across  the 
mountains.  The  method  of  skinning  the  goats  is  the  most  hor- 
ribly cruel  that  can  be  conceived.  A  negro  hangs  the  living 
animal  up  by  the  horns,  and  makes  a  circular  incision  round  his 
neck,  which,  however,  goes  no  further  than  to  the  flesh.  He 
then  draws  the  skin  from  the  body  of  the  writhing  animal,  which 
utters  the  most  frightful  cries.  When  the  skin  is  completely 
removed,  and  not  till  then,  is  the  suffering  animal  killed.  The 
negroes  assert  that  the  skin  is  most  easily  removed  in  this  man- 
duties  of  that  high  office  with  singular  judgment  and  moderation.  He  and 
his  lady  are  distinguished  for  their  courteous  and  liberal  hospitality  ;  and 
many  foreign  visitors,  like  myself,  look  back  with  pleasure  on  the  happi- 
ness they  derived  from  the  friendship  of  Don  Domingo  Eliaa 


166  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

ner,  and  that  the  odres*  become  thereby  more  durable.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  humanely  disposed  planters  will  soon  put  an  end 
to  this  barbarous  and  unreasonable  practice. 

I  happened  to  be  in  Yea  at  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  the 
negro  carnival,  which  I  will  here  briefly  describe.  In  some  of 
the  principal  streets  of  the  town  large  arches  are  erected,  and 
gaily  decorated  with  ribbons.  Round  these  arches  negresses 
and  mestizas  dance,  and  endeavor  to  stop  the  negroes  whilst 
riding  at  full  gallop  under  the  arches.  The  negroes  start  from 
the  distance  of  about  one  hundred  paces,  and  gallop  straight  to 
the  boundary,  where  the  women  endeavor  to  seize  the  bridle,  and 
to  throw  the  rider  from  his  saddle.  The  task  of  the  men  is  to 
ride  past  the  women  without  being  stopped  ;  and  when  they  fail 
in  so  doing,  they  have  to  pay  a  fine,  and  are  hooted  into  the  bar- 
gain. It  is  hard  to  say  which  is  most  surprising  ; — the  speed  of 
the  horses,  the  dexterity  of  the  riders,  or  the  courage  of  the  ne- 
gresses, who  fearlessly  throw  themselves  in  the  way  of  the  gal- 
loping horses.  During  the  race  the  negroes  are  pelted  with 
unripe  oranges  and  lemons,  which,  when  thrown  by  the  vigorous 
arm  of  a  zamba,  inflict  a  sufficiently  heavy  blow.  I  saw  a  negro 
gallop  to  and  fro  for  the  space  of  an  hour,  at  full  speed,  and 
every  time  he  passed  under  the  arch  he  dexterously  evaded  the 
outstretched  hands  of  the  women  ;  thus  giving  proof  of  uncom- 
mon bodily  strength.  While  dashing  at  full  speed  through  the 
arch  of  the  bridge,  and  leaning  forward  on  the  horse's  neck,  he 
seized  two  negresses,  one  with  each  of  his  arms,  and  pulled  them 
into  the  saddle  beside  him. 

The  climate  of  Yea  is  hot,  and  not  altogether  healthy,  for  the 
torrents  of  rain  which  fall  from  the  hills  swell  the  river  so  as  to 
make  it  overflow  its  lower  bank,  where  marshes  are  formed,  in 
which  malaria  is  developed.  Most  of  the  plantations  in  the  en- 
virons are  more  healthy. 

All  the  bushes  in  the  vicinity  of  the  town  are  inhabited  by  a 
kind  of  Guinea  pig  (Cavia  Cuttleri,  King).  These  animals  are 
exceedingly  numerous.  After  sunrise  and  towards  evening, 
they  leave  their  lurking  places  and  play  about  in  the  grass. 

*  An  odre  is  a  goat-skin  prepared  for  carrying  wine. 


GUANO.  167 


Upon  the  whole  they  are  not  shy,  and  they  allow  people  to  ap- 
proach them  pretty  closely.  The  natives  call  this  little  animal 
the  Cm  del  Monies,  and  they  believe  it  to  be  the  progenitor  of  the 
tame  Guinea  pig.  This  notion  is,  however,  quite  erroneous. 

Along  the  whole  of  the  Peruvian  coast  there. is  found  a  small 
animal  of  the  lizard  kind,  of  which  the  natives  are  very  much 
afraid.  They  call  it  the  Salamanqueja.  It  lives  in  the  fissures 
of  walls,  and  is  sometimes  seen  creeping  along  the  lime  plaster 
of  houses.  Its  bite  is  believed  to  be  mortal.  From  the  descrip- 
tions given  of  this  animal,  I  was  curious  to  see  it,  and  I  commis- 
sioned some  persons  to  procure  me  one.  At  last,  an  Indian 
brought  me  a  specimen  very  much  crushed,  and  I  found  that  I 
had  already  got  several  of  them  in  my  collections.  I  now  obtained 
more  of  them,  and  the  natives  beheld  me  with  astonishment 
carrying  them  alive  in  my  hand.  Of  the  Salamanqueja  there 
are  two  species,  the  Diplodactylus  lepidopygus,  Tsch.,  and  the 
Discodactylus  phacophorus,  Tsch.  They  are  nearly  related  to 
each  other,  being  only  distinguished  by  one  species  having  an 
orifice  in  the  thighs,  serving  as  a  passage  for  an  issue  from  a 
gland  which  secretes  a  very  acrid  fluid.  This  little  animal  never 
bites ;  but  it  is  possible  that  the  fluid  by  touching  a  fresh  wound, 
or  scratch,  may  cause  very  serious  consequences. 

To  the  south  of  Yea  there  are  some  large  cotton  plantations ; 
the  most  considerable  of  which  belong  to  Don  Domingo  Elias. 
The  cotton  for  exportation  is  shipped  at  the  port  of  San  Nicolas. 
Many  experienced  captains  of  ships  declare  the  bay  of  San  Nico- 
las to  be  the  safest  and  best  along  the  whole  of  the  western  coast 
of  South  America. 

The  Quebrada  of  Huaitara,  which  stretches  to  the  east  of  Yea, 
is  the  principal  channel  of  communication  between  this  part  of 
the  coast  and  the  rich  mountain  provinces  of  Jauja  and  Huanca- 
velica,  and  from  the  latter  places  to  Ayacucho  and  Cosco. 

Opposite  to  Pisco  and  Chinca  there  is  a  group  of  small  islands, 
of  which  the  largest,  Sangallan,  is  six  English  miles  distant  from 
Pisco.  These  islands  have  of  late  years  become  celebrated  on 
account  of  the  great  quantity  of  guano  that  has  been  exported 
from  them. 

Guano  (or  according  to  the  more  correct  orthography,  Hua- 


168  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


nu)*  is  found  on  these  islands  in  enormous  layers  of  from  35  to 
40  feet  thick.  The  upper  strata  are  of  a  greyish-brown  color, 
which  lower  down  becomes  darker.  In  the  lower  strata  the  color 
is  a  rusty  red,  as  if  tinged  by  oxide  of  iron.  The  Guano  becomes 
progressively  more  and  more  solid  from  the  surface  downward,  a 
circumstance  naturally  accounted  for  by  the  gradual  deposite  of 
the  strata,  and  the  evaporation  of  the  fluid  particles.  Guano  is 
found  on  all  the  islands,  and  on  most  of  the  uninhabited  pro- 
montories of  the  west  coast  of  South  America,  especially  in  those 
parts  within  the  tropics.  I  have  often  been  assured  that  beds  of 
Guano  several  feet  high,  covered  with  earth,  are  found  inland  at 
some  distance  from  the  sea ;  but  I  never  met  with  any,  and  I 
have  some  doubt  of  the  correctness  of  the  statement.  If,  however, 
these  inland  strata  really  exist,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  they 
can  only  be  found  on  hilly  ground ;  and  in  that  case  they  afford 
strong  evidence  of  a  considerable  elevation  of  the  coast. 

Guano  is  formed  of  the  excrements  of  different  kinds  of  marine 
birds,  as  mews,  divers,  sheerbeaks,  &c.  ;  but  the  species  which 
I  can  name  with  more  precision  are  the  following : — Larus  mo- 
destus,  Tsch.  ;  Rliinchops  nigra,  Lin. ;  Plotus  Anhinga,  Lin.  ; 
Pelecanus  thayus,  Mol ;  Phalacrocorax  Gaimardii,  and  albigula, 
Tsch.  (Pelecanus  Gaimardii,  Less.,  Carbo  albigula,  Brandt), 
and  chiefly  the  Sula  variegata,  Tsch. 

The  immense  flocks  of  these  birds  as  they  fly  along  the  coast 
appear  like  clouds.  When  their  vast  numbers,  their  extraordinary 
voracity,  and  the  facility  with  which  they  procure  their  food,  are 
considered,  one  cannot  be  surprised  at  the  magnitude  of  the  beds 
of  Guano,  which  have  resulted  from  uninterrupted  accumulations 

*  The  original  word  is  Huanu,  which  is  a  term  in  the  Quichua  dialect 
meaning  "  animal  dung  ;"  for  example,  Huanacuhuanu  (excrement  of  the 
Huanacu).  As  the  word  is  now  generally  used  it  is  an  abbreviation  of  Pishu 
Huanu — Bird-dung.  The  Spaniards  have  converted  the  final  syllable  nu 
into  no,  as  they  do  in  all  the  words  adopted  from  the  Quichua  which  have 
the  like  termination.  The  European  orthography  Guano,  which  is  also  fol- 
lowed in  Spanish  America,  is  quite  erroneous,  for  the  Quichua  language  is 
deficient  in  the  letter  (?,  as  it  is  in  several  other  consonants.  The  H,  in 
the  commencement  of  the  word,  is  strongly  aspirated,  whence  the  error  ia 
the  orthography  of  the  Spaniards,  who  have  sadly  corrupted  the  language 
of  the  Autochthones  of  Peru. 


GUANO.  169 


during  many  thousands  of  years.  I  kept  for  some  days  a  living 
Sula  variegata,  which  I  fed  abundantly  with  fish.  The  average 
weight  of  the  excrement  daily  was  from  3^  to  five  ounces.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  when  the  bird  is  in  a  state  of  freedom  the 
weight  must  be  much  greater,  for  these  birds  are  constantly 
plunging  into  the  sea,  in  order  to  devour  the  fishes  which  they 
find  in  extraordinary  masses  around  all  the  islands.  When  an 
island  is  inhabited  by  millions  of  sea-birds,  though  two-thirds  of 
the  guano  should  be  lost  while  flying,  still  a  very  considerable 
stratum  would  be  accumulated  in  the  course  of  a  year. 

The  marine  birds  nestle  on  the  uninhabited  islands,  or  on 
rocks  near  the  shore  ;  but  they  never  settle  on  the  flat  beach,  or 
any  place  distant  from  it  inland.  On  this  fact,  I  ground  my 
conjecture  that  those  beds  of  guano  in  the  interior,  which  may 
have  been  removed  from  the  shore  by  important  elevations  of  the 
coast,  are  to  be  found  only  on  hills. 

During  the  first  year  of  the  deposit  the  strata  are  white,  and 
the  guano  is  then  called  Guano  Blanco.  In  the  opinion  of  the 
Peruvian  cultivators,  this  is  the  most  efficacious  kind.  It  is 
found  in  the  Punta  de  Hormillos,  on  the  islands  of  Islay,  Jesus, 
Margarita,  &c. 

As  soon  as  the  dealers  in  guano  begin  to  work  one  of  the  beds, 
the  island  on  which  it  is  formed,  is  abandoned  by  the  birds.  It 
has  also  been  remarked,  that  since  the  increase  of  trade  and 
navigation,  they  have  withdrawn  from  the  islands  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  ports. 

Much  has  recently  been  written  on  the  employment  and  utility 
of  guano  ;  but  the  manner  in  which  it  is  applied  as  manure  in 
Peru,  seems  to  be  but  little  known.  The  Peruvians  use  it 
chiefly  in  the  cultivation  of  maize  and  potatoes.  A  few  weeks 
after  the  seeds  begin  to  shoot,  a  little  hollow  is  dug  round  each 
root,  and  is  filled  up  with  guano,  which  is  afterwards  covered 
with  a  layer  of  earth.  After  the  lapse  of  twelve  or  fifteen  hours, 
the  whole  field  is  laid  under  Water,  and  is  left  in  that  state  for 
some  hours.  Of  the  Guano  Blanco  a  less  quantity  suffices,  and 
the  field  must  be  more  speedily  and  abundantly  watered,  other- 
wise the  roots  would  be  destroyed.  The  effect  of  this  manure 
is  incredibly  rapid.  In  a  few  days  the  growth  of  a  plant  is 

9 


170  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


doubled.  If  the  manure  be  repeated  a  second  time,  but  in 
smaller  quantity,  a  rich  harvest  is  certain.  At  least,  the  produce 
will  be  threefold  that  which  would  have  been  obtained  from  the 
unmanured  soil. 

The  haciendas  of  the  valley  of  Chancay  have,  during  the  last 
fifty  years,  consumed  annually  from  33,000  to  36,000  bushels 
of  guano  brought  from  the  islands  of  Chancha  and  Pisco.  The 
price  of  the  bushel  of  colored  guano  is  one  dollar  and  a  quarter, 
and  the  price  of  the  white  from  two  to  three  dollars.  The  price 
has  recently  undergone  many  fluctuations,  in  consequence  of  the 
great  exports  to  Europe. 

The  employment  of  this  kind  of  manure  is  very  ancient  in 
Peru  ;  and  there  is  authentic  evidence  of  its  having  been  used 
in  the  time  of  the  Incas.  The  white  guano  was  then  chiefly 
found  on  the  islands  opposite  to  Chincha  ;  so  that  for  upwards  of 
600  years  the  deposit  has  been  progressively  removed  from  those 
islands  without  any  apparent  decrease  of  the  accumulation. 
The  uniformity  of  climate  on  a  coast  where  there  is  not  much 
rain,  must  contribute  to  render  the  Peruvian  guano  a  more  arid 
manure  than  the  African,  as  fewer  of  the  saline  particles  of  the 
former  being  in  solution,  they  are  consequently  less  subject  to 
evaporation. 

From  3°  35'  to  21°  48'  south  latitude,  a  plain  of  sand,  540 
leagues  long,  and  varying  from  3  to  20  leagues  in  breadth, 
stretches  along  the  coast  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  It  is  intersected 
by  chains  of  small  hillocks,  which,  extending  westward  from  the 
Cordilleras,  gradually  diminish  in  height,  and  either  become 
blended  with  the  plain,  or  form  abrupt  promontories,  which  pro- 
ject into  the  sea.  Between  the  river  Loa,  which  marks  the 
southern  frontier  of  the  Peruvian  coast,  and  the  Tumbez,  on  the 
northern  boundary,  fifty-nine  rivers,  great  and  small,  pass 
through  the  line  of  coast.  Proceeding  from  the  avalanches  of 
the  Andes  or  the  small  alpine  lakes,  they  force  their  way 
through  narrow  mountain-valleys,  irrigate  the  waste  grounds, 
and  then,  after  brief  courses,  flow  into  the  great  ocean. 

A  fine  light  yellow  drift  sand  covers  hill  and  dale.  It  is  only 
where  rivers  intersect  the  plain  that  oases  of  luxuriant  vegeta- 
tion are  formed.  The  peril  of  traversing  these  plains  is  greatly 


THE  MEDANOS.  171 


increased  by  the  movability  of  the  sand  and  the  Medanos.  The 
strong  winds  raise  immense  clouds  of  dust  and  sand.  The  sand 
rises  in  columns  of  from  eighty  to  a  hundred  feet  high,  which 
whirl  about  in  all  directions,  as  if  moved  by  magic.  Sometimes 
they  suddenly  overshadow  the  traveller,  who  only  escapes  from 
them  by  rapid  riding. 

The  medanos  are  hillock-like  elevations  of  sand,  some  having 
a  firm,  others  a  loose  base.  The  former,  which  are  always 
crescent-shaped,  are  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  high,  and  have  an 
acute  crest.  The  inner  side  is  perpendicular,  and  the  outer  or 
bow  side  forms  an  angle  with  a  steep  inclination  downward. 
When  driven  by  violent  winds,  the  medanos  pass  rapidly  over 
the  plains.  The  smaller  and  lighter  ones  move  quickly  for- 
wards before  the  larger  ones  ;  but  the  latter  soon  overtake  and 
crush  them,  whilst  they  are  themselves  shivered  by  the  collision. 
These  medanos  assume  all  sorts  of  extraordinary  figures,  and 
sometimes  move  along  the  plain  in  rows  forming  most  intricate 
labyrinths,  whereby  what  might  otherwise  be  visible  in  the  dis- 
tance is  withdrawn  from  the  view  of  the  traveller.  A  plain 
often  appears  to  be  covered  with  a  row  of  medanos,  and  some 
days  afterwards  it  is  again  restored  to  its  level  and  uniform  as- 
pect. Persons  who  have  the  greatest  experience  of  the  coast 
are  apt  to  mistake  their  way,  when  they  encounter  these  sand- 
hills. 

The  medanos  with  immovable  bases  are  formed  on  the  blocks 
of  rock  which  are  scattered  about  the  plain.  The  sand  is  driven 
against  them  by  the  wind,  and  as  soon  as  it  reaches  the  top  point 
it  descends  on  the  other  side  until  that  is  likewise  covered  ;  thus 
gradually  arises  a  conical-formed  hill.  Entire  hillock-chains 
with  acute  crests  are  formed  in  a  similar  manner.  The  small 
hillock-chain,  by  which  the  coast  is  intersected  obliquely  from 
east  to  west,  is  a  boundary  which  arrests  the  progress  of  the 
wandering  medanos  ;  otherwise  fruitful  oases  would  soon  be  con- 
verted into  barren  sand-flats.  A  correct  observation  of  these 
hillock-chains  affords  a  most  certain  scale  for  ascertaining  the 
direction  of  the  prevailing  wind.  On  their  southern  declivities 
are  found  vast  masses  of  sand  drifted  thither  by  the  mid-day 
gales.  The  northern  declivity,  though  not  steeper  than  the 


172  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


southern,  is  only  sparingly  covered  with  sand.  If  a  hillock- 
chain  somewhat  distant  from  the  sea  extends  in  a  line  parallel 
with  the  Andes,  namely  from  SS.E.  to  NN.W.,  the  western 
declivity  is  almost  entirely  free  of  sand,  as  it  is  driven  to  the 
plain  below  by  the  southeast  wind,  which  constantly  alternates 
with  the  wind  from  the  south. 

The  movements  and  new  formations  in  the  deserts  (like  re- 
storations from  death  to  life)  are  only  in  full  activity  during  the 
hot  season  ;  for  then  the  parched  sand  yields  to  the  slightest 
pressure  of  the  atmosphere.  In  the  cold  season  its  weight  in- 
creases by  the  absorption  of  humidity.  The  particles  unite  in 
masses,  and  more  easily  resist  the  wind.  In  the  meantime  the 
hillocks  also  acquire  more  firmness  or  compression  by  the  in- 
creased weight  which  presses  on  them  from  above. 

In  November,  summer  commences.  The  rays  of  the  sun  are 
refracted  on  the  light  grey  sandy  carpet,  and  are  reflected  back 
with  scorching  power.  Every  living  thing  which  does  not 
quickly  escape  from  their  influence  is  devoted  to  certain  destruc- 
tion. No  plant  takes  root  in  the  burning  soil,  and  no  animal 
finds  food  on  the  arid  lifeless  surface.  No  bird,  no  insect  moves 
in  the  burning  atmosphere.  Only  in  the  very  loftiest  regions, 
the  king  of  the  air,  the  majestic  condor,  may  be  seen  floating, 
with  daring  wing,  on  his  way  to  the  sea  coast.  Only  where  the 
ocean  and  the  desert  blend  with  each  other  is  there  life  and  move- 
ment. Flocks  of  carrion  crows  swarm  over  the  dead  remains  of 
marine  animals  scattered  along  the  shore.  Otters  and  seals  im- 
part life  to  the  inaccessible  rocks ;  hosts  of  coast  birds  eagerly 
pounce  on  the  fish  and  mollusca  cast  on  shore  ;  variegated  liz- 
ards sport  on  the  sand  hillocks  ;  and  busy  crabs  and  sea  spiders 
work  their  way  by  furrows  through  the  humid  coast. 

The  scene  changes  in  May.  A  thin  veil  of  mist  then  over- 
spreads the  sea  and  the  shore.  In  the  following  months  the 
thickness  of  the  mist  increases,  and  it  is  only  in  October  that  it 
begins  to  disperse.  In  the  beginning  and  at  the  end  of  the  period 
called  winter  this  mist  commonly  rises  between  nine  and  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  disappears  about  three,  P.M.  It  is 
heaviest  in  August  and  September ;  and  it  then  lies  for  weeks 
immoveable  on  the  earth.  It  does  not  resolve  into  what  may 


THE  GARUAS.  173 


be  properly  called  rain,  but  it  becomes  a  fine  minute  precipitate 
which  the  natives  call  GARUA  (thick  fog  or  drizzling  rain). 
Many  travellers  have  alleged  that  there  are  places  on  the  Peru- 
vian coast  which  have  been  without  rain  for  centuries.  The 
assertion  is  to  a  certain  degree  correct,  for  there  are  many  dis- 
tricts in  which  there  never  is  rain  except  after  an  earthquake, 
and  not  always  even  then. 

Though  the  garua  sometimes  falls  in  large  drops,  still  there  is 
this  distinction  between  it  and  rain,  that  it  descends  not  from 
clouds  at  a  great  height,  but  is  formed  in  the  lower  atmospheric 
regions,  by  the  union  of  small  bubbles  of  mist.  The  average 
perpendicular  height  over  which  this  fog  passes  does  not  exceed 
one  thousand  two  hundred  feet ;  its  medium  boundary  is  from 
seven  to  eight  hundred  feet.  That  it  is  known  only  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  sea  is  a  highly  curious  phenomenon ;  beyond 
those  few  miles  it  is  superseded  by  heavy  rains  ;  and  the  boun- 
dary line  between  the  rain  and  the  mist  may  be  defined  with 
mathematical  precision.  I  know  two  plantations,  the  one  six 
leagues  from  Lima,  the  other  in  the  neighborhood  of  Huacho : 
one  half  of  these  lands  is  watered  by  the  garuas,  the  other  half 
by  rain,  and  the  boundary  line  is  marked  by  a  wall. 

When  the  mists  set  in,  the  chain  of  hillocks  (Lomas)  bordering 
the  sand-flats  on  the  coasts  undergoes  a  complete  change.  As 
if  by  a  stroke  of  magic,  blooming  vegetation  overspreads  the  soil, 
which,  a  few  days  previously,  was  a  mere  barren  wilderness. 
Horses  and  cattle  are  driven  into  these  parts  for  grazing,  and 
during  several  months  the  animals  find  abundance  of  rich  pas- 
ture. There  is,  however,  no  water;  but  they  do  not  appear  to 
suffer  from  the  want  of  it,  for  they  are  always  in  good  healthy 
condition  on  leaving  the  Lomas. 

In  some  parts  of  northern  Peru,  where  the  garuas  are  scanty, 
the  fertility  of  the  soil  depends  wholly  on  the  mountain  rains,  for 
in  summer  most  of  the  rivers  are  dried  up.  When  there  is  a 
deficiency  of  rain,  the  cattle  on  the  coast  suffer  greatly.  A  few 
years  ago  a  haciendado,  or  cultivator,  in  the  vale  of  Piura,  lost 
42,000  sheep  ;  the  usual  flood,  without  which  the  necessary  fod- 
der could  not  be  raised,  did  not  come  on  at  the  proper  time.  At 
Piura  there  is  such  a  total  absence  of  dew,  that  a  sheet  of  paper 


174  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


left  for  a  whole  night  in  the  open  air  does  not,  in  the  morning, 
exhibit  the  smallest  trace  of  humidity.  In  central  and  south 
Peru  the  moisture  scarcely  penetrates  half  an  inch  into  the 
earth. 

In  the  oases  the  garuas  are  much  heavier  than  in  the  adjacent 
wastes.  Along  the  whole  of  the  coast  there  is  no  rain,  and  no 
vegetation  throughout  a  large  circuit.  The  rain  commences 
first  in  the  north  at  Tumbez,  and  there  extensive  woods  are  seen. 
Towards  the  east  it  begins  first  in  the  valleys  of  the  Cordilleras, 
which  abound  in  vegetation.  These  very  extraordinary  pheno- 
mena remain  as  yet  unexplained ;  they,  however,  merit  the 
closest  investigation  of  meteorologists. 

I  may  conclude  this  chapter  by  a  brief  view  of  the  Fauna  of 
the  higher  vertebral  animals.  In  the  region  of  the  coast  I  have 
found  twenty-six  species  of  mammalia,  only  eight  of  which  be- 
long exclusively  to  the  coast.  Sixteen  of  the  other  species  are 
to  be  found  in  the  mountains  or  in  the  forests.  The  relation  of 
this  number  to  the  whole  of  the  mammalia  of  Peru  is  1  : 4,  3. 
Distributed  by  single  orders,  they  are  in  the  following  propor- 
tions : — Bats,  four  species,  of  which  only  one  (  Vespertilio  innox- 
iuS)  Gerv.)  belongs  to  this  region  alone.  Beasts  of  prey,  ten 
kinds ;  among  them  one  of  the  mephitic  class,  known  to  the  na- 
tives by  the  name  of  zorillo,  or  ahash  ;  an  otter  (Lutra  chilensis, 
Ben.)  ;  a  fox  (Canis  azartz,  Pr.  Max.),  which  abounds  in  the  cot- 
ton plantations  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lima  and  throughout  all 
the  Lomas,  where  he  preys  on  the  lambs ;  several  of  the  feline 
race,  among  which  are  the  two  great  American  species — the 
puma  and  the  ounce,  which  are  seldom  seen  on  the  coast,  but 
are  considerably  larger  than  those  in  the  mountains.  The 
American  lion  is  timid,  and  shuns  man.  When  caught  young 
he  is  easily  tamed.  The  Indians  of  the  northern  provinces 
sometimes  bring  these  lions  to  Lima,  and  get  money  for  showing 
them.  They  lead  them  by  a  string,  or  put  them  in  large  sacks, 
and  carry  them  about  on  their  backs,  until  a  show-loving  crowd 
assembles  around  them.  The  ounces  are  very  bold  and  fierce. 
They  penetrate  into  plantations,  and  attack  children  and  horses. 
They  very  cunningly  avoid  the  numerous  snares  laid  for  them 
by  the  Indians.  An  encounter  with  this  animal  is  serious  and 


BIRDS.  175 


dangerous.  A  hunt  seldom  ends  without  some  of  the  pursuers 
being  killed  or  wounded  by  the  animal. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  seals.  There  are  three  kinds  of 
didelphic  or  marsupial  animals  on  the  coast.  The  natives  call 
them  mucamuca.  They  live  in  bushes  and  shrubberies,  and  they 
often  find  their  way  into  the  store-rooms  of  the  plantations. 

Of  the  great  section  of  the  Rodentia,  I  know  of  only  seven 
species  in  Peru ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  this  number  might  be 
doubled  by  a  careful  search  in  the  valleys  on  the  coast.  The 
common  house-mouse  is  very  numerous  in  Lima.  The  brown 
rat  appears  seldom.  It  came  to  Peru  only  a  few  years  ago ;  but 
there  is  reason  to  apprehend  that  it  will  soon  be  very  numerous. 
Probably  it  has  been  imported  by  Hamburgh  ships.  In  Callao  I 
saw  specimens  of  some  that  had  been  killed.  I  did  not  see  the 
common  black  rat  in  Peru. 

The  Armadillo  (Dasypus  tatuay,  Desm.,  L.)  is  seldom  seen. 
It  is  found  in  some  of  the  Yucca  and  Camote  plantations.  The 
negroes  eat  it,  and  its  flesh  is  said  to  be  good. 

Of  wild  ruminating  animals  there  is  only  one  on  the  coast :  it 
is  a  kind  of  Roe  (Cervus  nemorivagus,  F.  Cuv.,  the  venado  of  the 
natives).  The  venados  chiefly  inhabit  the  brushwood  along  the 
coast ;  but  after  sunset  they  visit  the  plantations,  where  they 
commit  considerable  damage.  They  are  smaller  than  our  Euro- 
pean roe,  and  somewhat  more  brown.  Englishmen  at  Lima  go 
out  to  hunt  them.  The  natives  do  not  take  much  interest  in  the 
chase.  This  animal  is  also  met  with  in  the  coldest  regions  of  the 
Cordilleras  ;  but  it  does  not  come  down  to  the  old  forests,  where 
the  Red  Deer  (Cervus  rufus,  F.  Cuv.)  supplies  its  absence. 

In  the  woods  which  surround  some  of  the  plantations  in  the 
valleys  of  Lima,  wild  boars  (Chanchos  Simarones)  are  occasionally 
found.  They  are  of  immense  size.  At  the  plantation  called  the 
Hacienda  de  Caraponga,  one  was  killed,  of  which  the  head  alone 
was  an  ordinary  burthen  for  a  mule. 

The  number  of  birds  in  this  very  extensive  quarter  of  Peru 
(the  marine  and  river  fowl  being  excepted)  is  very  inconsidera- 
ble. The  scarcity  of  woods  and  high  trees  may  probably  account 
for  this.  Besides  the  carrion  vulture,  condors  collect  in  great 
numbers  on  the  shore  to  prey  on  the  stranded  whales.  Falcons 


176  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

seldom  appear,  except  the  small  Sparrow  Hawk  (Falco  sparve- 
rius,  L.),  which  is  very  numerous  in  Peru.  One  of  the  most 
common  birds  is  the  little  Earth  Owl  (Noctua  urucurea,  Less.), 
which  is  met  with  in  nearly  all  the  old  ruins  scattered  along  the 
coast.  The  Pearl  Owl  (Strix  perlata,  L.)  is  bred  in  several 
plantations,  as  it  is  found  useful  in  catching  mice.  Swallows  are 
not  very  common  ;  they  do  not  nestle  on  the  housetops,  but  on 
walls  at  some  distance  from  towns.  The  Peruvians  give  them 
the  euphonious  name,  Palomitas  de  Santa  Rosa  (Santa  Rosa's  lit- 
tle pigeons).  Among  the  singing-birds  the  Crowned  Fly  King 
(Myoarchus  coronatus,  Cab.)  is  the  most  distinguished.  The 
head,  breast,  and  belly  of  this  bird  are  deep  red,  the  wings  and 
back  very  dark  brown.  He  always  plants  himself  on  the  high- 
est point  of  a  tree,  flies  perpendicularly  upward,  whirls  about  in 
the  air  singing,  and  drops  down  again  straight  to  his  former 
perch.  The  Limenos  have  given  this  elegant  bird  a  very  unbe- 
coming name,  which  I  need  not  repeat  here.  On  some  parts  of 
the  coast  it  is  called  Saca-tu-real  (draw  out  your  real),  because 
his  song  sounds  like  these  words.  Some  fine  Tanagers  (Tana-, 
gra  frugilega,  Tsch. ;  Tanagra  analis,  Tsch.)  visit  the  fruit 
gardens  round  Lima.  I  saw  two  birds,  of  the  starling  species, 
the  red-bellied  Picho  (Sturnella  militaris,  Viell.),  and  the  glossy- 
black  Chivillo  (Cassicus  palliatus,  Tsch.),  which  are  kept  in 
cages  on  account  of  their  very  melodious  song.  Three  kinds  of 
parrots,  which  abound  in  the  valleys  on  the  coast,  commit  great 
depredations  in  the  maize  fields.  The  largest  (Conurus  tumultu- 
osus,  Tsch.)  is  green,  with  a  red  forehead,  and  some  red  feathers 
scattered  over  the  body.  A  second  sort  builds  its  nest  chiefly  on 
the  sides  of  rocks  (Conurus  rupicola,  Tsch.),  and  only  occasion- 
ally visits  the  plantations.  The  third  is  the  smallest,  but  at  the 
same  time  the  most  beautiful  of  the  whole  (Conurus  sitophaga, 
Tsch.).  A  fine  green  overspreads  all  the  upper  part  of  the  body, 
a  blue  fringe  borders  the  feathers  of  the  wings ;  and  a  bright 
citron-yellow  is  diffused  over  the  forehead,  neck,  breast,  and 
belly.  It  is  only  seven  inches  long.  Pigeons,  large  and  small, 
swarm  in  such  multitudes  over  the  corn-fields,  and  in  the  envi- 
rons, that  they  may  almost  be  called  the  great  plague  of  the 
country.  One  of  the  finest  is  the  little  TurtuH  (Chaemepelia  gra- 


AMPHIBIA.  17 


cilis,  Tsch.),  on  the  wing  of  which  there  is  a  row  of  very  beau- 
tiful  shining  violet  spots.  The  Cuculi,  one  of  the  largest  pigeons, 
is  a  great  favorite.  It  is  kept  much  in  cages.  Its  song,  which 
is  monotonous,  yet  very  melodious,  is  kept  up  from  the  earliest 
hours  of  the  morning  until  midday,  and  it  begins  again  nearly  at 
sunset.  The  song  consists  merely  of  a  threefold  repetition  of 
cu-cu-li.  After  a  pause,  it  resumes  the  song  again.  There  are, 
however,  some  of  those  birds  which  repeat  the  cuculi  oftener  than 
thrice,  and  their  price  increases  according  to  the  number  of  their 
uninterrupted  repetitions,  which  seldom  exceed  five  or  six.  In 
Cocachacra,  however,  I  heard  one  of  these  birds  which  re- 
peated its  cuculi  fourteen  times.  The  owner  would  not  sell  it 
under  fourteen  gold  ounces. 

The  amphibia  on  the  Peruvian  coast  are  proportionally  much 
better  represented  than  the  two  foregoing  classes.  The  gigantic 
tortoises  (Chelonia  imbricata  and  Ch.  midas,  Schweig.)  visit  in 
great  numbers  the  few  little  frequented  inlets.  The  elephant 
tortoise  (Testudo  Schweigen)  is  often  found  on  some  islands,  and 
in  the  marshy  mouths  of  several  rivers. 

Two  kinds  of  Crocodiles  (Champsa  sclerops  and  Ch.  Jissipes, 
Wagl.)  inhabit  the  Rio  de  la  Chira.  They  grow  to  the  length 
of  fourteen  or  fifteen  feet. 

Among  the  lizard  class  of  reptiles,  very  large  bright  green 
Iguanas  are  found  on  the  south  coast ;  for  instance,  in  the  Caletas 
near  Merillones,  &c. ;  but  there  are  great  numbers  of  the  land 
Agama,  of  which  I  found  several  new  species,  viz.,  Sleirolepis 
tigris,  thoracica,  quadrivittata,  xanthostigma,  Tsch. ;  Liolaemus 
elegans,  Tsch. ;  CtenoUepharys  adspersa,  Tsch.,  &c.,  &c.  I 
have  already  mentioned  the  Gecko,  called  the  Salamanqueja. 

Serpents  upon  the  whole  are  rather  seldom  seen.  They  belong 
to  different  kinds,  some  poisonous,  some  innoxious  (for  example, 
Zacholus,  Psammophis,  Oxyrrhopus,  Siphlophis,  Ophis,  Elaps,  &c., 
&c.).  A  very  poisonous  viper  (Eschidna  ocellata,  Tsch.)  in- 
habits the  sugar-cane  fields.  Its  bite  is  almost  instantaneously 
mortal. 

The  genuine  frog  is  not  to  be  found  on  the  coast,  and  of  the  blad- 
der frog  only  two  kinds  are  known  (Cystignathus  roseus  and  nodo- 
sus,  Dum.  Bibr.).  I  have  found  three  amphibia  of  the  toad  class. 
9* 


178  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


The  Thorn  toad  (Bufo  spinulosus,  Wiegam.),  which  has  its  body 
thickly  covered  with  a  thorny  kind  of  warts.  The  beautiful  red 
spotted  toad  (Bufo  lhaul),  and  a  very  curious  and  ugly  kind  with 
a  round,  swelled  out  body,  a  loose  skin,  and  a  large  bladder  under 
the  chin  (Anaxyrus  melancholicus,  Tsch.).  At  night  the  cry  of 
this  animal  is  a  discordant  melancholy  howl. 


ROADS  TO  THE  SIERRA.  179 


CHAPTER  X. 

Roads  leading  to  the  Sierra — Chaclacayo  and  Santa  Ines — Barometrical 
observations — San  Pedro  Mama — The  Rio  Seco — Extraordinary  Geolo- 
gical Phenomenon — Similar  one  described  by  Mr.  Darwin — Surco — 
Diseases  peculiar  to  the  Villages  of  Peru — The  Verugas — Indian  mode 
of  treating  the  disorder — The  Bird-catching  Spider — Horse-Shoeing — 
Indian  Tambos — San  Juan  de  Matucanas — The  Thorn-apple  and  the 
Tonga — The  Tambo  de  Viso — Bridges — San  Mateo — Passports — Accha- 
huari — Malady  called  the  Veta — Its  effects  on  horses — Singular  tact  and 
caution  of  Mules — Antarangra  and  Mountain  Passes — Curious  partition 
of  Water — Piedra  Parada — Yauli — Indian  Smelting  Furnaces — Mineral 
Springs — Portuguese  Mine  owners — Saco — Oroya — Hanging  Bridges — 
Huaros — Roads  leading  from  Oroya. 

FROM  Lima  two  main  roads  lead  to  the  Sierra  or  the  mountains. 
One  runs  northward  through  the  valley  of  Canta,  in  the  direction 
of  the  rich  silver  mines  of  Cerro  de  Pasco ;  the  other,  taking  a 
more  southerly  direction,  passes  through  the  Quebrada  of  Matu- 
canas, to  the  villages  of  Tarma,  Jauja,  and  Huancayo  ;  and  still 
further  south,  leads  to  Huancavelica,  Ayacucho,  and  Cuzco. 
All  the  roads  running  from  the  coast  to  the  Sierra,  present  a 
similarity  of  character.  Taking  an  oblique  direction  from  the 
margin  of  the  coast,  they  run  into  one  or  other  of  the  fan-shaped 
Cordillera  valleys,  all  of  which  are  intersected  by  rivers.  Fol- 
lowing the  course  of  these  rivers,  the  roads  become  steeper  and 
steeper,  and  the  valleys  soon  contract  into  mere  ravines,  ter- 
minating at  the  foot  of  the  Cordillera.  The  traveller  then  threads 
his  way  up  the  acclivity,  amidst  stupendous  masses  of  rock,  until 
he  reaches  the  lofty  ridge.  Then  a  gradual  descent  leads  to  the 
level  heights,  and  thence  into  the  deep  mountain  valleys. 

Former  travellers  having  already  described  the  route  by  way 
of  Canta,  I  will  here  trace  the  course  through  the  Quebrada  of 
Matucanas.  In  so  doing,  I  am  enabled  to  present  to  the  reader 


ISO  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  results  of  some  barometrical  observations  which  are  the  more 
interesting,  inasmuch  as  the  Cordillera  here  advances  more  nearly 
to  the  coast  than  at  any  other  point. 

The  most  easterly  gate  of  the  city  of  Lima  (the  Portada  de 
Mara  villas)  opens  upon  a  broad  road,  which  runs  directly  east- 
ward. At  the  distance  of  about  a  league  and  a  half  from  the 
city,  the  road  passes  over  a  stone  bridge  called  the  Puente  de 
Surco,  a  place  famed  for  robbers.  At  this  point  the  surrounding 
country  presents  a  wild  and  dreary  aspect.  Ranges  of  grey  and 
barren  hills  encompass  the  valley ;  the  ground  is  for  the  most 
part  covered  with  sand  and  gravel.  Desolate  remains  of  planta- 
tions and  the  ruins  of  habitations  bear  evidence  of  the  life  and 
activity  that  once  animated  this  desert  region,  now  abandoned  by 
all  save  the  fierce  bandit  and  his  victim,  the  solitary  traveller. 

Along  the  margins  of  the  river,  patches  of  moor-ground  here 
and  there  serve  as  pasture.  Clover  and  maize  are  produced  only 
in  those  parts  where  the  soil  is  manured  and  artificially  watered. 
Low  brushwood  and  reeds,  growing  on  the  banks  of  the  Rimac, 
supply  firewood  to  the  city  of  Lima,  and  are  a  source  of  profit 
to  some  of  the  plantation-owners  in  the  valley.  At  Periachi, 
four  leagues  from  the  capital,  the  road  takes  a  turn  to  north-east, 
and  continues  in  that  direction,  with  but  little  deviation,  as  far  as 
the  base  of  the  Cordillera.  Two  leagues  beyond  Pariachi  we 
reach  Chaclacayo,  a  village  containing  about  thirty  miserable 
reed  huts.  The  plantation  of  Santa  Ines,  a  little  further  on,  is 
situated  at  2386  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.*  Mr.  Maclean, 
an  English  merchant  in  Lima,  who  has  sent  many  interesting 
Peruvian  plants  to  the  hothouses  of  England,  and  who  has  made 
some  very  attentive  barometrical  observations  during  a  journey 
in  the  interior  of  the  country,  calculates  the  altitude  of  Chaclacayo 
at  2265  feet  above  the  sea.f  Rivero  makes  it  2010  feet  above 
that  level.:}:  The  difference  between  these  calculations  is  re- 

*  All  these  calculations  are  by  English  feet. 

f  Jardine  and  Selby's  Annals  of  Natural  History. 

\  Nivelacion  barometrica  desde  el  Callao  hasta  Pasco,  por  el  camino  de 
Obrajillo,  y  desde  el  mismo  lugar  hasta  la  capital  por  via  de  Tarma,  hecha 
y  calculada  por  Mariano  Eduardo  Rivero  y  Usturitz  in  Memorial  de  Ciencias 
naturales,  &c. 


ROADS  TO  THE  SIERRA.  181 

markable ;  and  in  more  considerable  altitudes  the  discrepancy  is 
still  more  considerable,  being  sometimes  as  much  as  from  eight 
to  nine  hundred  feet.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it  is  attributa- 
ble less  to  inaccuracy  of  observation  than  to  the  very  imperfect 
instrument  made  use  of  by  Rivero.  Maclean's  observations, 
with  some  trifling  exceptions,  correspond  with  mine.  He  used 
one  of  Fortin's  barometers,  and  I  one  of  Lefevre's,  which,  prior 
to  my  departure  from  Europe,  had,  during  several  weeks,  been 
regulated  at  the  observatory  in  Paris.  Unluckily,  this  excellent 
instrument  was  injured  by  a  fall  from  my  horse,  and  I  found  it 
impossible  to  get  it  repaired.  Some  barometrical  observations 
made  by  M.  C.  Gay,  during  a  journey  in  Peru,  in  the  years 
1839-40,  with  one  of  Bunten's  barometers,  deviate  very  con- 
siderably from  all  those  above  mentioned.  Between  the  calcula- 
tions of  Gay  and  Rivero  there  is  an  average  difference  of  from 
six  hundred  to  one  thousand  feet. 

On  the  road  to  Pasco,  the  Hacienda  of  Cavallero  corresponds, 
in  its  distance  from  the  capital,  with  the  village  of  Chaclacayo, 
on  the  road  I  am  here  describing.  At  Chaclacayo  wheat  and 
sugar  are  cultivated.  The  sugar  cane  thrives  well,  and  might 
be  grown  in  greater  quantity.  In  some  of  the  coast  districts  I 
have  seen  the  sugar  cane  cultivated  at  the  height  of  4500  feet 
above  the  sea ;  and  I  have  seen  it  grow  spontaneously,  and  attain 
perfect  maturity,  as  high  as  6800  feet. 

From  Santa  Ines  the  road  continues  gradually  ascending  to  the 
little  village  of  San  Pedro  Mama,  where  the  two  rivers,  San  Ma- 
teo  and  Santa  Olaya,  unite  and  form  the  Rimac.  The  walls  of 
mountain  which  enclose  the  valley  here  rise  almost  perpendicu- 
larly, and  afford  nestling-places  for  small,  richly-plumed  parrots 
(Conurus  rupicola,  Tsch.).  I  was  much  surprised  to  see  these 
birds  inhabiting  the  barren  rocks,  as  the  parrot  always  dwells  in 
woody  regions,  and  is  found  in  other  places  only  when  on  its 
passage.  I  know  no  other  species  of  this  family,  save  the  one  I 
have  just  mentioned,  which  permanently  nestles  on  mountains. 

Three  leagues  beyond  San  Pedro  lies  the  village  of  Cocachacra. 
It  is  a  small  and  poor  place,  but  is  picturesquely  situated,  and 
enjoys  a  fine  climate.  Its  name,  signifying  coca-field,  or  planta- 
tion, denotes  that  coca  must  formerly  have  been  cultivated  here. 


182  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


At  present  that  plant  is  not  grown  in  any  part  near  the  coast,  as 
it  requires  a  damp  and  very  warm  climate.  Cocachacra  is  5386 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Maclean  fixes  the  altitude  of  San 
Pedro  Mama,  Santa  Olaya,  and  Cocachacra,  at  5331  feet.  Sup- 
posing this  calculation  to  be  correct  with  respect  to  the  latter  vil- 
lage, it  cannot  also  apply  to  San  Pedro  Mama  an.d  Santa  Olaya, 
which  lie  much  lower.  At  the  two  last-mentioned  places  I  made 
no  barometrical  observations. 

On  the  Pasco  road  the  hamlet  of  Llanga  is  situated,  at  twelve 
leagues  from  Lima.  On  the  other  road  Cocachacra  is  the  same 
distance  from  the  capital ;  but  Cocachacra  is  about  2400  feet 
higher  than  Llanga.  Between  Cavallero  and  Llanga  there  is  an 
interesting  geological  phenomenon,  which  I  will  here  describe. 

At  the  distance  of  two  leagues  from  Lima  the  road  takes  a  turn. 
At  first  it  runs  direct  north,  or  north-north-west ;  suddenly  it  turns 
to  north-north-east,  and  advances  along  the  bank  of  the  river  Chil- 
lon  as  far  as  Cavallero.  From  thence,  with  slight  deviations,  it 
continues  in  the  same  course  to  Llanga,  but  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  river,  as  the  latter  takes  a  wide  sweep  northward. 
From  Cavallero  the  road  runs  for  the  space  of  three  leagues,  still 
ascending,  through  a  barren  district,  along  the  dry  bed  of  a  river, 
called  the  Rio  Seco.  The  last  half-league  of  the  way  is  very 
steep,  and  leads  to  the  ridge  of  a  chain  of  hillocks  running  dia- 
gonally across  the  valley.  The  ground  is  strewed  with  fragments 
of  porphyry  and  other  kinds  of  rock,  like  the  bed  of  the  Rimac. 
On  reaching  the  ridge  of  the  line  of  hillocks,  the  traveller  beholds 
on  the  other  side  a  hollow  basin,  like  the  dry  bed  of  a  lake :  a 
furrow,  extending  lengthwise  through  this  hollow,  is  the  continua- 
tion of  the  bed  of  the  river  which  is  intersected  by  the  chain  of  hills. 
Descending  into  the  valley,  and  again  following  the  course  of  the 
Rio  Seco  to  the  distance  of  about  three  leagues,  we  reach  the 
village  of  Alcocoto,  and  once  more  arrive  on  the  bank  of  the  Rio 
de  Chillon. 

Here,  therefore,  we  have  evidence  of  the  following  remarkable 
facts,  viz.: — that  at  some  former  period  the  river  of  Chillon  flowed 
north-westward  from  Alcocoto  to  Cavallero,  in  the  bed  that  is  now 
dry ;  and  that  a  chain  of  hills  has  been  upheaved  diagonally 
across  the  valley  and  the  river.  By  this  chain  of  hills  the  water, 


GEOLOGICAL  PHENOMENA.  183 

being  dammed  up,  formed  a  lake ;  then  it  was  again  driven  back, 
until  the  stream  broke  into  a  new  course  at  Alcocoto,  by  which 
means  the  lake  emptied  itself,  and,  having  no  new  supply  of 
water,  it  dried  up.  Now  the  Rio  de  Chillon  flows  from  Alcocoto 
to  Cavallero,  taking  a  wide  turn,  first  westward,  next  south-west- 
ward, and  lastly,  direct  south,  until,  at  a  sharp  angle,  it  unites 
with  the  old  bed  of  the  river.  The  point  of  junction  is  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  Hacienda  Cavallero.  This  is,  however,  not  a 
solitary  example  of  the  course  of  a  river  being  interrupted  by  the 
uplifting  of  a  ridge  of  hills.  A  similar  instance  is  mentioned  by 
Mr.  Darwin,  who,  however,  did  not  see  it  himself,  but  who  de- 
scribes it  as  follows,  from  the  observation  of  his  countryman,  Mr. 
Gill,  the  engineer  : — 

"  Travelling  from  Casma  to  Huaraz,  not  far  distant  from  Lima, 
he  (Mr.  Gill)  found  a  plain  covered  with  ruins  and  marks  of  an- 
cient cultivation,  but  now  quite  barren.  Near  it  was  the  dry 
course  of  a  considerable  river,  whence  the  water  for  irrigation 
had  formerly  been  conducted.  There  was  nothing  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  water-course  to  indicate  that  the  river  had  not 
flowed  there  a  few  years  previously  ;  in  some  parts,  beds  of  sand 
and  gravel  were  spread  out ;  in  others,  the  solid  rock  had  been 
worn  into  a  broad  channel,  which  in  one  spot  was  about  forty 
yards  in  breadth,  and  eight  feet  deep.  It  is  self-evident  that  a 
person  following  up  the  course  of  a  stream  will  always  ascend 
at  a  greater  or  less  inclination.  Mr.  Gill,  therefore,  was  much 
astonished,  when  walking  up  the  bed  of  this  ancient  river,  to  find 
himself  suddenly  going  down  hill.  He  imagined  that  the  down- 
ward slope  had  a  fall  of  about  forty  or  fifty  feet  perpendicular. 
We  here  have  unequivocal  evidence  that  a  ridge  had  been  up- 
lifted right  across  the  old  bed  of  the  stream.  From  the  moment 
the  river-course  was  thus  arched  the  water  must  necessarily 
have  been  thrown  back,  and  a  new  channel  formed.  From  that 
period,  also,  the  neighboring  plain  must  have  lost  its  fertilizing 
stream,  and  become  a  desert."* 

The  inference  here  deduced  is,  that  the  rising  took  place  at 
a  period  when  the  district  was  inhabited  and  cultivated  by  men. 

*  Darwin's  Journal,  p.  359. 


184  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Of  the  period  of  the  uplifting  between  Cavallero  and  Alcocoto  I 
could  discern  no  proofs.  But  the  impression  produced  by  the  dry 
river  bed  involuntarily  suggests  the  idea  that,  at  no  very  dis- 
tant period,  it  must  have  been  the  lodgment  of  a  stream ;  for  it 
is  in  all  respects  similar  to  the  temporary  dry  river  beds  so  fre- 
quently met  with  on  the  coast  of  Peru. 

I  made  repeated  visits  to  the  Rio  Seco,  and  I  always  contem- 
plated with  wonder  the  curious  deviation  of  the  river's  course. 
But  I  must  candidly  confess  that  during  my  abode  in  Peru,  I  did 
not  venture  to  attribute  that  deviation  to  so  partial  an  uplifting  ; 
for  I  was  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  any  similar  phenomenon 
which  would  have  supported  such  an  opinion.  Now,  however, 
the  example  referred  to  by  the  eminent  English  geologist,  and 
which  has  its  existence  on  the  same  coast  of  Peru,  sets  all  my 
doubts  at  rest,  and  I  am  quite  convinced  of  the  correctness  of 
Mr.  Darwin's  view  of  the  subject. 

Having  made  this  digression,  I  must  now  carry  the  reader 
back  to  Cocachacra.  Pursuing  the  road  to  the  distance  of  three 
leagues  further,  we  arrive  at  San  Geronimo  de  Surco.  The 
valley  in  this  part  becomes  more  contracted  ;  but  on  the  whole 
its  character  is  unchanged,  with  the  exception  that  the  moun- 
tains gradually  become  higher  and  steeper,  and  the  soil  less  fer- 
tile. The  road  frequently  runs  along  lofty  walls  of  rock,  or 
winds  round  sharp  projections,  which  overhang  deep  chasms,  in 
passing  which  the  greatest  precaution  is  requisite. 

In  several  of  the  valleys  on  the  road  from  the  coast  to  the 
Sierra,  and  above  all  in  the  valley  of  Surco,  there  are  certain 
springs,  the  water  of  which  the  Indians  never  drink.  When  a 
stranger  unguardedly  approaches  one  of  these  springs  for  the 
purpose  of  quenching  his  thirst,  he  is  saluted  by  warning  cries 
of  Es  agua  de  Veruga  f  (It  is  veruga  water  !)  Even  horses 
and  mules  are  not  suffered  to  refresh  themselves  at  these  springs, 
where  the  water  is  supposed  to  have  the  effect  of  producing  a 
disorder  called  the  Verugas.  As  the  existence  of  this  disease 
is  not  known  in  any  other  country,  there  appears  ground  for  be- 
lieving that  it  has  its  origin  in  certain  local  circumstances.  The 
verugas  first  manifests  itself  by  sore  throat,  pains  in  the  bones, 
and  other  feverish  symptoms.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days  an 


THE  VERUGAS.  185 


eruption  of  red-colored  pimples,  or  boils,  appears.  These  pim- 
ples sometimes  increase  in  magnitude,  till,  in  some  parts  of  the 
body,  they  become  nearly  as  large  as  an  egg,  and  blood  flows 
from  them  to  such  an  excess,  that  the  strength  of  the  patient  is 
exhausted,  and  consumption  frequently  follows.  From  the  small 
verugas  the  flow  of  blood  is  greatest.  I  knew  an  instance  of  a 
half-caste  Indian  who  from  a  small  veruga  below  the  ankle  lost 
two  pounds  of  blood. 

I  was  not  able  to  trace  this  disease  to  any  other  cause  than 
that  which  the  Indians  assign  to  it.  At  all  events,  it  is  certain 
that  travellers  who  abstain  from  drinking  the  water  of  the  con- 
demned springs,  escape  the  verugas ;  whilst  those  who  only  once 
taste  such  water,  are  attacked  by  the  disorder.  It  is  the  same 
with  mules  and  horses.  One  of  my  mules  which  drank  veruga 
water  was  attacked  by  a  large  tumor  on  the  leg.  The  disease 
is  notoriously  prevalent  in  the  village  of  Santa  Olaya. 

The  medical  treatment  of  the  Verugas  by  the  Indians  is  quite 
empirical.  They  administer  to  the  patient  the  infusion  of  a  plant 
which  they  call  Huajra-Huajra  j  that  is,  Horn- Horn.*  I  never 
witnessed  any  convincing  proof  of  its  efficacy.  Its  operation 
appears  to  be  merely  sudorific.  A  preparation  of  white  maize  is 
also  frequently  given,  and  it  has  the  effect  of  assisting  the  action 
of  the  skin.  When  the  eruption  of  the  verugas  is  tardy,  a  few 
spoonfuls  of  wine  are  found  to  be  of  great  service.  Sudorific 
and  purifying  medicines,  together  with  cutting  out  the  large  ve- 
rugas, and  keeping  the  wounds  for  a  time  in  a  state  of  suppura- 
tion, have  heretofore  been  found  the  best  mode  of  treatment.  An 
accurate  chemical  analysis  of  the  water  which  the  Indians  de- 
clare to  be  agua  de  veruga,  would  be  very  desirable. f 

In  the  Quebrada  of  Canta,  where  the  verugas  are  less  com- 
mon than  in  that  of  Matucanas,  another  disease,  called  the  Uta, 
is  of  very  frequent  occurrence.  The  uta  is  a  sort  of  cancer, 
and  it  is  more  fearful  in  its  consequences  than  the  verugas. 


*  The  Spaniards  term  this  plant  Una  de  gato  (Cat's-claw),  the  stalk  be- 
ing furnished  with  hooked  thorns  resembling  claws. 

f  For  further  information  relative  to  this  disease,  see  my  communication 
to  Wunderlich  and  Roser's  "  JSLrchiv  fur  Physiologische  Heilkunde." 


186  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Probably  in  no  country  in  the  world  do  so  many  local  diseases 
prevail  as  in  Peru.  Every  valley  has  its  own  peculiar  disease, 
which  frequently  does  not  extend  beyond  the  boundary  of  a  few 
square  miles,  and  is  quite  unknown  in  neighboring  districts. 
The  origin  of  these  disorders  is,  doubtless,  to  be  traced  to  certain 
mineral  or  vegetable  influences  as  yet  unknown.  It  is  remarka- 
ble how  unequally  these  baneful  visitations  affect  the  different 
races  of  the  inhabitants.  The  Indians  and  the  lighter  classes  of 
half-castes  are  most  frequently  attacked  by  the  verugas ;  the 
whites  are  less  liable  to  the  disease,  whilst  the  negroes  and  people 
of  the  darker  shades  of  mixed  blood  seldom  suffer  from  it.  The 
Indians  and  the  Chinos  are  particularly  liable  to  the  uta.  The 
caracha,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken,*  visits  the  Negroes, 
the  Zamboes,  and  the  Mulattoes  ;  the  lighter-complexioned  races 
"being  much  less  liable  to  it. 

At  Quibe  1  saw  a  bird-catching  spider  (mygale),  of  extraordi- 
nary large  size.  The  back  part  of  the  body  alone  measured  two 
inches.  Being  at  some  distance  I  supposed  it  to  be  one  of  the 
rodent  animals,  and  I  fired  at  it.  To  my  mortification  I  dis- 
covered my  mistake  when  too  late,  for  the  specimen  was  com- 
pletely destroyed  by  the  shot,  and  was  useless  for  my  collection. 
The  Indians  assured  me  that  on  the  margin  of  the  stream  which 
flowed  near  the  plantation  many  larger  individuals  were  to  be 
found ;  but  I  never  saw  another  of  such  remarkable  size  as  the 
one  I  inadvertently  destroyed. 

San  Geronimo  de  Surco  is  6945  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 
It  is  a  long  village,  and  is  situated  in  one  of  the  most  fertile  parts 
of  the  valley.  The  houses  are  detached  one  from  another,  and 
each  is  surrounded  by  a  little  chacra.  This  place  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  boundary-line  between  the  coast  and  the  Sierra. 
The  climate  is  agreeable — rather  hot  than  cold.  Most  of  the 
coast  plants  thrive  here  with  little  culture.  Bananas,  chirimoyas, 
superb  granadillas,  pomegranates,  camotes,  &c.,  grow  here  in 
luxuriant  abundance.  Yuccas  I  did  not  see  :  their  elevation 
boundary  is  lower.  San  Geronimo  de  Surco  is  infested  with 
swarms  of  annoying  insects,  especially  sancudos  (Culex  molestus, 

*  See  page  153. 


INDIAN  TAMBOS.  187 


Koll.),  and  stinging  flies  (species  of  Simoleum),  which  banish 
sleep  from  the  resting-place  of  the  weary  traveller. 

In  this  village  there  is  an  old  Spaniard  who  keeps  a  tambo,  and 
at  the  same  time  exercises  the  calling  of  a  farrier.  One  of  my 
horse's  shoes  being  loose,  I  got  him  to  fasten  it  on.  For  ham- 
mering in  eight  nails  he  made  me  pay  half  a  gold  ounce,  and  at 
first  he  demanded  twelve  dollars.  He  doubtless  bore  in  mind  the 
old  Spanish  proverb  :  "  For  un  clavo  sepierde  una  herradura,  por 
una  herradura  un  cavallo,  por  un  cavallo  un  cavallero,"*  and  he 
felt  assured  that  I  must  have  the  damage  repaired  at  any  price. 
Shortly  after  my  arrival  in  the  Sierra  I  got  myself  initiated  in 
the  art  of  horse-shoeing,  and  constantly  carried  about  with  me  a 
supply  of  horse-shoes  and  nails,  a  plan  which  I  found  was  gene- 
rally adopted  by  travellers  in  those  parts.  It  is  only  in  the 
larger  Indian  villages  that  farriers  are  to  be  met  with,  that  is  to 
say  in  places  fifty  or  sixty  leagues  distant  from  each  other. 

From  Surco  the  road  runs  to  the  distance  of  two  leagues  tole- 
rably level,  and  very  close  to  the  river,  which,  from  Cocachacra, 
bears  the  name  of  Rio  de  San  Mateo.  The  next  village  is  San 
Juan  de  Matucanas,  at  a  little  distance  from  which  there  is  a 
tambo,  situated  at  the  height  of  8105  feet  above  the  sea.f  These 
tambos  of  the  Sierra  are  wretched  places,  but  the  traveller  may 
find  in  them  shelter,  and  possibly  some  miserable  kind  of  food. 
Even  in  Lima  the  tambos  are  not  much  better.  In  the  capital  a 
tambo  affords  the  traveller  the  accommodation  of  a  room,  con- 
taining a  table,  a  chair,  and  a  bedstead  ;  for  it  is  always  under, 
stood  that  he  brings  his  mattress  and  bedding  along  with  him. 
In  the  interior  of  the  country  the  accommodation  is  limited  to  an 
empty  space  on  the  floor,  just  large  enough  to  spread  a  mattress 
upon.  Whenever  the  state  of  the  weather  permitted  I  always 
preferred  sleeping  in  the  open  air.  Even  on  a  rainy  night  a 
lodging  on  the  outside  of  the  door  is  preferable  to  the  interior  of 
the  hut,  where  Indians,  negroes,  dogs  and  pigs  are  all  huddled 

*  By  a  nail  is  lost  a  shoe,  by  a  shoe  a  horse,  and  by  a  horse  a  rider. 

t  According  to  Maclean,  the  elevation  of  Matucanas  is  8026  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea.  I  presume  that  this  calculation  refers  to  the  village  itself, 
which  is  situated  about  the  eighth  of  a  league  from  the  tambo,  and  lies 
much  lower. 


188  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


together.  In  these  tambos  there  is  seldom  any  scarcity  of 
brandy  or  chicha  ;  but  the  hungry  traveller  sometimes  cannot 
get  even  a  potatoe  or  a  bit  of  maize.  Frequently,  when  the  In- 
dians really  have  provisions  they  will  not  produce  them,  because 
they  are  fearful  of  not  being  paid.  This  suspicion  is  pardonable 
enough  ;  for  when  troops  march  through  the  villages  the  inha- 
bitants are  often  cheated  by  the  officers,  and  ill-treated  into  the 
bargain.  Generally,  in  this  part  of  the  country,  the  people  are 
civil,  and  will  readily  sell  provisions  if  they  are  paid.  Not  so 
the  Indians  of  the  higher  mountains  eastward  of  the  Cordillera. 
To  the  traveller's  demand  for  something  to  eat,  their  uniform 
reply  is  "  Manam  canchu  "  (we  have  nothing)  ;  and  it  is  often 
found  necessary  to  resort  to  force  in  order  to  convert  this  mo- 
notonous answer  into  the  more  agreeable  "  Art  conchu  "  (here  is 
something). 

Matucanas,  which  is  rather  a  large  village,  lies  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Rimac.  The  houses  are  of  brick,  and  roofed  with 
straw.  The  soil  round  this  village  is  fertile,  though  not  favora- 
ble to  the  growth  of  those  plants  which  demand  a  very  warm 
temperature.  The  agricultural  produce  is  therefore  limited  to 
maize,  wheat,  lucerne  (which  is  very  abundant),  and  potatoes  ; 
the  latter  are  sent  in  great  quantities  to  the  capital.  The  cactus 
grows  on  the  hills,  and  its  excellent  fruit  (tunas)  forms  also  an 
article  of  trade. 

Beyond  Matucanas  the  valley  contracts  into  a  narrow  ravine 
no  broader  than  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  it  gradually  assumes  a 
wilder  character.  The  way  is  difficult  along  the  ridge  of  hills 
which  borders  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  The  vegetation  is  less 
monotonous  and  scanty  than  in  the  valleys  of  the  coast,  and  all 
the  fissures  of  the  hills  are  filled  with  verdure.  The  stunted 
willow  (Salix  Humboldtii,  Wild.)  grows  along  the  banks  of  the 
river,  and  on  the  less  steep  declivities  is  seen  the  red  thorn-apple 
(Datura  sanguinea,  R.  Pav.).  To  the  latter  the  natives  give  the 
names  Huacacachu,  Yerba  de  Huaca,  or  Bovachcvo ;  and  they 
prepare  from  its  fruit  a  very  powerful  narcotic  drink,  called 
tonga.  The  Indians  believe  that  by  drinking  the  tonga  they  are 
brought  into  communication  with  the  spirits  of  their  forefathers. 
I  once  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  an  Indian  under  the  influ- 


QUEBRADA  DE  VISO.  189 


ence  of  this  drink.  Shortly  after  having  swallowed  the  beverage 
he  fell  into  a  heavy  stupor  :  he  sat  with  his  eyes  vacantly  fixed 
on  the  ground,  his  mouth  convulsively  closed,  and  his  nostrils 
dilated.  In  the  course  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  his  eyes 
began  to  roll,  foam  issued  from  his  half-opened  lips,  and  his 
whole  body  was  agitated  by  frightful  convulsions.  These  vio- 
lent symptoms  having  subsided,  a  profound  sleep  of  several  hours 
succeeded.  In  the  evening  I  again  saw  this  Indian.  He  was 
relating  to  a  circle  of  attentive  listeners  the  particulars  of  his 
vision,  during  which  he  alleged  he  had  held  communication  with 
the  spirits  of  his  forefathers.  He  appeared  very  weak  and  ex- 
hausted. 

In  former  times  the  Indian  sorcerers,  when  they  pretended  to 
transport  themselves  into  the  presence  of  their  deities,  drank  the 
juice  of  the  thorn-apple,  in  order  to  work  themselves  into  a  state 
of  ecstasy.  Though  the  establishment  of  Christianity  has  weaned 
the  Indians  from  their  idolatry,  yet  it  has  not  banished  their  old 
superstitions.  They  still  believe  that  they  can  hold  communica- 
tions with  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors,  and  that  they  can  obtain 
from  them  a  clue  to  the  treasures  concealed  in  the  huacas,  or 
graves  ;  hence  the  Indian  name  of  the  thorn-apple — huacacachu, 
or  grave  plant. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Matucanas  there  is  a  lateral  valley, 
larger  and  more  pleasant  than  the  principal  valley.  It  is  called 
the  Quebrada  de  Viso,  and  is  watered  by  a  little  stream.  At 
the  point  where  this  Quebrada  forms  a  junction  with  the  princi- 
pal valley  is  situated  the  Tambo  de  Viso.  It  is  9100  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.*  At  this  tambo  the  traveller  may  find  a 
tolerable  night's  lodging  for  himself,  and  fodder  for  his  horse. 
Here  the  river  is  crossed  by  a  bridge,  and  the  road  then  proceeds 
along  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  after  having  been  on  the  right 
bank  all  the  way  from  Lima.  The  bridges  across  these  moun- 
tain streams  are  always  constructed  at  points  where  the  river  is 
most  contracted  by  the  narrow  confines  of  the  ravine.  They 
consist  merely  of  a  few  poles  made  of  the  trunk  of  the  Maguay- 
tree  (Agave  Americana),  and  connected  together  by  transverse 

*  According  to  Maclean's  calculation,  the  Tambo  de  Viso  is  9072  feet 
above  the  sea. 


190  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


ropes ;  the  ropes  being  overlaid  with  twisted  branches  and  pieces 
of  hoops.  These  bridges  are  not  more  than  three  feet  broad,  and 
have  no  balustrades.  When  the  space  between  the  banks  of  the 
river  is  too  long  for  the  Maguay  stems,  strong  ropes  made  of 
twisted  ox-hides  are  substituted.  In  crossing  these  bridges  acci- 
dents frequently  happen,  owing  to  the  hoofs  of  the  horses  and 
mules  getting  entangled  in  the  plaited  branches  along  the  path- 
way. A  little  way  beyond  San  Mateo  I  narrowly  escaped  being 
precipitated,  with  my  mule,  into  the  rocky  chasm  forming  the  bed 
of  the  river. 

The  road  between  Viso  and  San  Mateo,  a  distance  of  about 
three  leagues,  is  exceedingly  difficult  and  dangerous.  The  ravine 
becomes  narrowed  to  a  mere  cleft,  between  walls  of  mountain 
rising  on  either  side  to  the  height  of  more  than  a  thousand  feet ; 
sometimes  perpendicularly,  and  at  other  times  inclining  inwards, 
so  as  to  form  gigantic  arches.  The  path  runs  along  the  base  of 
these  mountains,  washed  by  the  foaming  waves  of  the  stream  ; 
or  it  winds  up  the  side  of  the  precipice,  over  huge  fragments  of 
rock,  which,  being  loosened  by  the  rain,  afford  no  secure  footing 
for  the  heavily  laden  mules.  Frequently  these  loosened  blocks 
give  way,  and  roll  down  into  the  valley.  The  journey  from  Viso 
to  San  Mateo  is  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  recollection  of  a 
most  mortifying  accident.  A  mass  of  rock,  such  as  I  have  just 
described,  gave  way,  and  rolling  down  the  precipice,  hurled  one 
of  my  mules  into  the  foaming  abyss.  My  most  valuable  instru- 
ments, a  portion  of  my  collections,  my  papers,  and — to  me  an 
irreparable  loss — a  diary  carefully  and  conscientiously  kept  for 
the  space  of  fourteen  months,  were  in  a  moment  buried  in  the 
river.  Two  days  afterward  the  current  washed  the  dead  mule 
ashore  at  Matucanas,  but  its  load  was  irrecoverably  lost. 

Every  year  many  beasts  of  burthen,  and  even  travellers,  per- 
ish on  this  road.  In  the  Tambo  de  Viso  I  met  an  officer  who, 
with  two  of  his  sons,  was  coming  from  the  Sierra.  He  had  placed 
the  youngest  before  him,  and  the  other,  a  boy  of  ten  years  of  age, 
was  seated  on  the  mule's  crupper.  When  they  were  within  about 
half  a  league  from  Viso,  a  huge  mass  of  rock,  rolling  down  from 
the  mountain,  struck  the  elder  boy,  and  hurled  him  into  the  river. 


AN  OPERA  BILL  FOR  A  PASSPORT.  191 

The  afflicted  father  was  anxiously  seeking  to  recover  the  body  of 
his  lost  child. 

San  Mateo  is  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  and  is  the  largest 
village  in  this  valley.  It  corresponds  in  situation  with  Culluay 
in  the  Quebrada  of  Canta ;  as  Matucanas  corresponds  with  the 
village  of  Obrajillo.  San  Mateo  is  10,947  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea.*  The  soil  produces  abundance  of  potatoes,  Ocas  (Oxalis 
tuberosa)  and  Ullucas  (Tropceolum  tuberosum).  Maize  ripens 
here  perfectly,  but  the  heads  are  small.  The  lucerne  is  also 
small,  but  very  abundant ;  it  is  very  much  exposed  to  injury 
from  the  frost,  and  is  only  good  for  use  during  the  five  rainy 
months  of  the  year.  Five  hundred  feet  higher,  that  is  to  say, 
about  11,500  feet  above  the  sea,  is  the  boundary  elevation  for  the 
growth  of  lucerne. 

Tho  spirit  of  hospitality,  so  generally  prevalent  among  the 
Sierra  Indians,  does  not  seem  to  animate  the  Cholos  of  San  Mateo. 
Their  manners  are  rude  and  reserved,  and  they  are  very  distrust- 
ful of  strangers.  As  soon  as  a  traveller  enters  the  village,  the 
Alcade  and  the  Rejidores  make  their  appearance,  and  demand 
his  passport.  If  he  cannot  produce  it,  he  may  possibly  be  put 
upon  a  donkey,  and  conducted  to  the  nearest  Prefect,  or  may 
moreover  run  the  risk  of  being  ill-treated.  But,  fortunately,  it  is 
easy  to  escape  such  annoyances.  Any  scrap  of  printed  or  written 
paper  will  answer  for  a  passport,  as  it  rarely  happens  that  either 
the  Alcade  or  the  Rejidores  can  read.  On  one  occasion  when  my 
passport  was  demanded,  I  discovered  I  had  lost  it.  Fortunately, 
I  had  in  my  pocket  a  bit  of  waste  paper,  which  I  had  used  instead 
of  wadding  in  loading  my  gun.  I  ventured  at  all  hazards  to  hand 
it  to  the  Indian  Rejidor,  who  having  unfolded  it  stared  very 
gravely  at  the  words  Lucia  di  Lammermoor,  which  he  saw  printed 
in  large  characters.  It  was  the  bill  of  the  opera  I  had  attended  a 
few  evenings  before  my  departure  from  Lima.  After  examining 
the  bill  very  attentively,  and  then  scanning  me  very  narrowly, 
the  Rejidor  returned  the  paper,  with  the  observation  that  the  pass- 
port was  quite  correct. 

*  Maclean  states  the  elevation  to  be  10,984  feet  above  the  sea.  Rivero 
makes  it  9570,  and  Gay  10,408  feet.  Gay's  is  the  only  measurement  which 
in  any  manner  corresponds  with  mine  and  Maclean's.  In  general  Gay's 
calculations  are  between  600  and  800  feet  higher  than  ours. 


192  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


From  San  Mateo  the  road  runs  for  half  a  league  through  a 
gloomy  ravine ;  and  then  suddenly  takes  a  steep  ascent  up  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  over  fragments  of  stones,  lying  one  above 
another  like  flights  of  steps.  The  stream  dashes  from  rock  to 
rock,  covering  the  narrow  path  with  foam,  and  washing  away 
the  blocks  of  stone  which,  in  some  of  the  most  dangerous  parts, 
serve  as  barriers  along  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  On  this  road 
long  trains  of  mules  are  frequently  met  coming  from  the  Sierra. 
The  traveller,  at  their  approach,  seeks  some  little  recess  into 
Which  he  may  creep,  and  there  stand  closely  jammed  against  the 
mountain  until  the  train  passes  by.  This  is  attended  by  great 
loss  of  time,  owing  to  the  slow  and  cautious  pace  at  which  the 
mules  proceed.  On  such  a  rencounter  in  a  narrow  mountain 
path,  I  was  once  obliged  to  wait  for  several  hours,  whilst  two 
hundred  mules  passed  by  ;  and  at  the  spot  where  I  arid  my  horse 
stood,  the  laden  animals  had  scarcely  space  sufficient  to  set  down 
their  feet  at  the  very  edge  of  the  pathway.  In  some  places  it 
is  perfectly  impossible  either  to  go  on  one  side  or  to  turn  back  ; 
and  when  horses  or  mules  meet  at  these  difficult  points,  one  of 
the  animals  is  obliged  to  plunge  into  the  stream,  before  the  other 
can  have  room  to  pass.  The  numerous  curvatures  of  the  road, 
and  the  projecting  masses  of  mountain,  render  it  impossible  to 
see  advancing  objects  in  sufficient  time  to  avoid  collision. 

After  having  passed  this  difficult  tract,  which  is  called  by  the 
natives  Cacray,  we  reach  the  summit  of  the  acclivity  down 
which  the  mountain  stream  descends.  Here  the  valley  presents 
quite  the  Sierra  character.  It  is  no  longer  confined  within  steep 
and  rugged  mountain  walls,  but  runs  in  undulating  contours  along 
the  bases  of  the  hills,  and  gently  ascends  eastward  towards  the  prin- 
cipal chain  of  the  Cordillera.  The  road  is  sometimes  on  the  right 
and  sometimes  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  Two  leagues  beyond 
San  Mateo  lies  Chicla,  a  miserable  Indian  village,  which,  according 
to  Maclean's  calculation,  is  12,712  feet  above  sea  level..  In  some 
of  the  more  sheltered  parts  barley  is  planted ;  but  it  does  not  ripen, 
and  is  merely  used  as  fodder  (Alcazer).  Chicla  is  the  last  place 
in  this  valley  where  the  soil  is  in  any  degree  capable  of  cultiva- 
tion. Half  a  league  further  on,  there  are  a  few  scattered  Indian 
huts,  called  the  village  of  Acchahuari.  One  of  these  huts  is  a 


AN  INDIAN  TAMBO  DESCRIBED.  193 

tambo,  which  can  never  be  forgotten  by  any  unfortunate  traveller 
who  may  have  taken  up  his  abode  in  it.  Necessity  several 
times  compelled  me  to  seek  a  night's  lodging  in  this  horrible 
tambo  ;  but  I  never  could  remain  in  it  till  morning  ;  and  even 
amidst  snow  or  rain  I  have  been  glad  to  get  out,  and  take  up  my 
resting-place  on  the  outside  of  the  door.  The  hostess  is  a  dirty 
old  Indian  woman,  assisted  by  her  daughter ;  and  the  hut  is 
filthy  beyond  description.  For  supper,  the  old  woman  cooks  a 
vile  mess  called  Chupe,  consisting  of  potatoes  and  water,  mixed 
with  Spanish  pepper ;  but  it  is  so  dirtily  prepared,  that  nothing 
but  the  most  deadly  hunger  would  induce  any  one  to  taste  it. 
The  beds  consist  of  sheep-skins  spread  on  the  damp  floor ;  and 
one  bedchamber  serves  for  the  hostess,  her  daughter,  her  grand- 
children, and  the  travellers  ;  an  immense  woollen  counterpane 
or  blanket  being  spread  over  the  whole  party.  But  woe  to  the 
unwary  traveller  who  trusts  himself  in  this  dormitory  !  He 
soon  finds  himself  surrounded  by  enemies  from  whose  attacks  it 
is  impossible  to  escape  ;  for  the  hut  is  infested  with  vermin. 
Even  should  he  withdraw  into  a  corner,  and  make  a  pillow  of 
his  saddle,  the  annoyance  pursues  him.  Add  to  all  this  a  stifling 
smoke,  and  all  sorts  of  mephitic  exhalations,  and  troops  of  guinea- 
pigs  who  run  about  during  the  whole  night,  and  gambol  over  the 
faces  and  bodies  of  the  sleepers, — and  it  may  readily  be  con- 
ceived how  anxiously  the  traveller  looks  for  the  dawn  of  morn- 
ing, when  he  may  escape  from  the  horrors  of  this  miserable 
tambo.  Acchahuari  is  13,056  feet  above  the  sea  level.  The 
climate  is  very  ungenial.  During  the  winter  months,  rain  and 
snow  fall  without  intermission  ;  and  even  during  the  summer, 
heavy  drifts  of  snow  are  not  unfrequent.  From  April  to  July, 
the  medium  temperature  during  the  night  is  4°  R. 

After  passing  Cacray  the  diminished  atmospheric  pressure 
begins  to  produce  an  effect  on  coast  horses  which  have  not  been 
accustomed  to  travel  in  the  Sierra.  They  are  attacked  with  a 
malady  called  the  veto,  which  shows  itself  by  difficulty  of  breath- 
ing and  trembling.  The  animals  are  frequently  so  overpowered 
that  they  are  unable  either  to  move  or  stand,  and  if  they  are  not 
immediately  unsaddled  and  allowed  to  rest  they  perish.  The 
arrieros  consider  bleeding  a  cure  for  this  malady.  They  some- 

10 


i94  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


times  slit  the  horse's  nostrils,  a  remedy  which  is  probably  effica- 
cious, as  it  enables  the  animal  to  inhale  the  air  freely.  Chopped 
garlic  put  into  the  nostrils  is  supposed  to  be  a  preventive  of  the 
veta.  Mules  are  less  liable  to  the  malady  probably  because 
they  ascend  the  acclivities  more  slowly  than  horses.  The  dis- 
ease does  not  attack  the  native  horses  of  the  Sierra,  for  which 
reason  they  are  better  than  the  coast  horses  for  mountain  travel- 
ling. Mules,  however,  are  preferable  to  either.  It  is  wonderful 
with  what  tact  and  penetration  the  mule  chooses  his  footing. 
When  he  doubts  the  firmness  of  the  ground  he  passes  his  muzzle 
over  it,  or  turns  up  the  loose  parts  with  his  hoof  before  he  ven- 
tures to  step  forward.  When  he  finds  himself  getting  into  soft 
and  marshy  ground  he  stands  stock  still,  and  refuses  to  obey 
either  stirrup  or  whip.  If  by  accident  he  sinks  into  a  morass, 
he  makes  a  halt,  and  waits  very  contentedly  until  he  receives 
assistance.  But  in  spite  of  all  this  sagacity  the  traveller  will 
not  do  well  to  resign  himself  wholly  to  the  guidance  of  his  mule. 
In  ordinary  cases  these  animals  allow  themselves  to  be  guided, 
and  sometimes  they  appear  to  think  it  more  safe  to  trust  to  the 
bridle  than  to  themselves.  One  of  my  mules  frequently  gave 
me  curious  proofs  of  this  sort  of  calculation.  When,  in  very 
difficult  parts  of  the  road,  I  dismounted,  in  order  to  walk  and 
lead  him  by  the  bridle,  I  found  it  impossible  to  get  the  animal  to 
move  either  by  force  or  persuasion.  He  spread  out  his  legs, 
fixed  his  hoofs  firmly  into  the  ground,  and  obstinately  resisted  all 
my  endeavors  to  make  him  move.  But  as  soon  as  I  remounted 
he  willingly  obeyed  every  movement  of  the  bridle.  With  this 
mule  I  could  ride  through  marshes,  which  I  could  never  do  with 
any  other.  He  appeared  to  reflect  that,  as  I  only  dismounted 
when  the  road  was  unsafe,  his  life  was  in  no  less  danger  than 
mine. 

About  a  league  beyond  Acchahuari  the  valley  is  bounded  by 
the  principal  chain  of  the  Cordillera.  The  ascent  may  be  gained 
by  two  different  roads.  One,  the  steeper  of  the  two,  runs  south- 
ward, across  the  Piedra  Parada ;  the  other,  on  which  the  ascent 
is  somewhat  easier,  takes  an  easterly  direction,  over  Antarangra. 
We  will  first  trace  the  latter  course,  which  is  the  most  frequented. 
At  the  extremity  of  the  valley,  and  twenty-eight  leagues  from 


VIEW  FROM  THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  CORDILLERA          195 

the  capital,  is  situated  the  last  village,  Cashapalca,  13,236  feet 
above  the  sea.  Its  inhabitants  are  chiefly  employed  in  mining. 
Formerly,  vast  quantities  of  silver  were  obtained  here.  But 
most  of  the  mines  are  now  either  under  water  or  exhausted,  and 
the  village,  with  its  mine  works,  has  dwindled  into  insignificance. 
Beyond  Cashapalca  there  is  a  tract  of  marshy  ground,  which 
being  passed,  a  narrow  winding  road  of  about  two  leagues  leads 
up  the  acclivity.  The  soil  is  clayey,  and  thinly  bestrewed  with 
alpine  grass,  intermingled  with  syngenesious  and  cruciferous 
plants.  Two  plants  which  are  called  by  the  natives  mala  yerla 
and  garban  zillos,  and  are  a  deadly  poison  to  mules  and  horses, 
grow  in  great  abundance  here.  The  numerous  skeletons  of 
beasts  of  burthen  seen  along  the  road  bear  evidence  of  the  fatal 
effects  of  those  plants.  Higher  up  the  ascent  the  vegetation  be- 
comes more  and  more  scanty,  until  at  length  it  entirely  disappears, 
and  nothing  is  visible  but  the  barren  rock  of  the  Sierra  highlands. 

The  last  division  of  acclivity  is  called  by  the  natives  the  Anta- 
rangra  (copper  rock).  On  it  there  is  a  small  heap  of  stones,  which 
I  shall  describe  by  and  by,  and  a  cross  made  of  the  stems  of  the 
BaccJiaris.  From  this  point  the  traveller  catches  a  distant 
glimpse  of  the  heaven-towering  summit  of  the  Cordillera. 

I  speedily  mounted  the  ascent,  and  reached  the  goal  of  my 
journey.  Here  I  found  myself  disappointed  in  the  expectation 
I  had  formed  of  commanding  an  uninterrupted  view  over  bound- 
less space  and  distance.  The  prospect  is  greatly  circumscribed 
by  numerous  rocky  elevations,  which  spring  up  in  every  direction. 
The  mountain  passes  running  across  the  ridge  of  the  Cordillera 
are  bounded  on  all  sides  by  rocks,  sometimes  not  very  high,  but 
at  other  times  rising  to  the  elevation  of  1000  feet.  The  pass  of 
Antarangra  (also  called  Portachuelo  del  Tingo,  or  Pachachaca) 
is  15,600  above  the  sea.*  Nevertheless  it  is,  during  a  great  part 
of  the  year,  free  from  snow.  Scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  league 
further  northward  are  the  eternal  glaciers,  and  they  are  several 
hundred  feet  lower  than  the  Pass.  That  the  Pass  itself  is  not 
permanently  covered  with  snow  is  a  circumstance  which  may 

*  Maclean  makes  it  15,543  feet ;  Gay,  15,924  feet ;  and  Rivero,  only  14,608 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 


196  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


probably  be  accounted  for  by  the  direction  of  the  atmospheric 
currents.  The  east  winds  penetrate  into  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
valleys,  which  are  sheltered  against  the  cold  south  wind  by  the 
adjacent  mountain  ridge.  The  passes  have  a  gloomy  character, 
and  the  rugged  grandeur  of  the  surrounding  country  presents 
an  aspect  of  chaotic  wildness  and  disorder.  The  ground  is  co- 
vered with  huge  masses  of  rock  ;  and  the  ungenial  fruitless  soil 
is  shunned  alike  by  plants  and  animals.  The  thin  tendrils  of  a 
lichen,  here  and  there  twining  on  a  damp  mass  of  stone,  are  the 
only  traces  of  life.  Yet  the  remains  of  human  industry  and 
activity  are  everywhere  observable.  On  all  sides  are  seen  the 
deep  cavities  which  formed  the  entrances  to  the  now  exhausted 
mines.  These  cavities  are  sometimes  situated  at  elevated  points 
of  the  almost  inaccessible  walls  of  rock,  and  are  occasionally 
found  in  the  level  part  of  the  valley,  and  close  on  the  roadway. 
Instances  have  occurred  of  travellers  being  killed  by  falling  into 
these  holes,  when  they  have  been  covered  by  thick  falls  of  snow. 

It  is  curious  to  observe,  on  the  Pass  of  Antarangra,  the  parti- 
tion of  the  waters  flowing  into  the  two  great  oceans,  the  Atlantic 
and  the  Pacific.  Scarcely  thirty  paces  distant  from  each  other 
there  are  two  small  lagunas.  That  situated  most  to  the  west  is 
one  of  the  sources  of  the  Rio  de  San  Mateo,  which,  under  the 
name  of  the  Rimac,  falls  into  the  Pacific.  The  other  laguna,, 
that  to  the  eastward,  sends  its  waters  through  a  succession  of 
small  mountain  lakes  into  the  Rio  de  Pachachaca,  a  small  tribu- 
tary to  the  mighty  Amazon  river.  It  is  amusing  to  take  a  cup 
of  water  from  the  one  laguna  and  pour  it  into  the  other.  I  could 
not  resist  indulging  this  whim  ;  and  in  so  doing  I  thought  I  might 
possibly  have  sent  into  the  Pacific  some  drops  of  the  water  des- 
tined for  the  Atlantic.  But  the  whim,  puerile  as  it  may  be, 
nevertheless  suggests  serious  reflections  on  the  mighty  power  of 
nature,  which  has  thrown  up  these  stupendous  mountains  from 
the  bosom  of  the  earth  ;  and  also  on  the  testaceous  animals  found 
on  these  heights,  memorials  of  the  time  when  the  ocean  flowed 
over  their  lofty  summits. 

From  the  ridge  the  road  runs  eastward  along  a  branch  of  the 
principal  mountain  chain.  This  branch  forms  the  southern 
boundary  of  a  gently-sloping  valley.  The  declivity  is  terrace- 


ROUTE  BY  PIEDRA  P  ARAB  A.  197 

formed,  and  on  each  terrace  there  is  a  small  clear  lake.  This 
series  of  lakes  is  called  Huascacocha  (the  chain  of  lakes).  In 
their  waters,  as  in  most  of  the  mountain  rivers,  there  is  found  in 
great  numbers  a  small  species  of  shad-fi«h  (Pygidium  dispar, 
Tsch.).  They  are  caught  during  the  nigh:  in  nets,  or  by  lines, 
to  which  the  bait  is  fastened  by  small  cactus-thorns. 

The  third  in  the  series  of  the  lagunas  is  called  Morococha  (the 
colored  lake).  On  its  banks  some  buildings  have  been  con- 
structed, for  the  smelting  of  copper  ore.  The  mines  which 
yield  this  metal  are  on  the  southern  declivity,  close  to  the  road 
leading  down  from  the  Cordillera.  Formerly  these  mines  were 
worked  for  silver,  but  were  not  found  very  productive  of  that 
metal.  Now  they  are  again  actively  worked,  and  copper  is  ob- 
tained from  them.  The  working  of  the  Peruvian  copper  mines 
has  hitherto  been  much  neglected,  though  copper  ore  is  exceed- 
ingly abundant. 

The  road  from  Morococha  to  Pachachaca  is  very  uniform. 
The  latter  village,  which  is  situated  12,240  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea,  was  formerly  a  place  of  much  greater  importance 
than  it  now  is.  In  its  neighborhood  there  are  a  number  of  spa- 
cious buildings  constructed  at  the  time  of  the  unfortunate  English 
mining  speculation.  Most  of  them  are  only  half  finished.  At 
the  entrance  of  the  village  there  is  a  large  hacienda.  In  some 
of  the  apartments  the  flooring  is  of  wood  ;  a  thing  seldom  seen 
in  these  parts,  where  the  wood  for  such  purposes  must  be  brought 
from  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Andes  :  the  difficulty  and  ex- 
pense attending  this  transport  are  so  considerable,  that  a  wooden 
floor  is  a  great  rarity  in  the  habitations  of  the  Cordillera.  A 
mine  belonging  to  the  hacienda  is  situated  five  leagues  north- 
west of  Pachachaca,  and  yields  rich  silver  ore  ;  but  a  great  part 
of  it  is  at  present  under  water,  and  its  drainage  would  be  a  very 
difficult  undertaking. 

Returning  to  the  point  where  the  two  roads  across  the  Cordil- 
lera separate  at  Cashapalca,  we  will  now  trace  the  route  by  way 
of  Piedra  Parada.  This  way  is  shorter  than  that  by  Antarangra, 
but  the  ascents  are  much  steeper.  The  first  objects  met  with  by 
the  traveller  on  this  road  are  some  Indian  huts,  called  yauliyacu, 
and  the  ruined  hacienda  of  San  Rafael.  These  being  passed, 


198  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  ascent  continues  over  broken  masses  of  rock.  About  15,200 
feet  above  the  sea  there  is  a  huge  block  of  mountain,  called  the 
Piedra  Parada,  close  against  which  a  chapel  was  formerly 
erected  ;  the  mountain  forming  the  back  wall  of  the  structure. 
Now  there  is  merely  an  iron  cross,  fixed  on  the  upper  part  of  the 
block  of  mountain.  On  this  spot  the  Archbishop  used  formerly 
to  celebrate  mass,  when  he  was  on  his  rounds  through  the  diocese. 
The  chapel  was  destroyed  by  lightning,  and  has  not  been  rebuilt. 
The  pass  of  the  Piedra  Parada  is  16,008  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
is  always  covered  with  snow.  Travellers  frequently  lose  their 
way  in  this  pass,  an  accident  which  befel  me  in  March,  1842, 
when  I  was  proceeding  alone  by  that  route.  Being  overtaken 
by  a  violent  fall  of  snow,  I  could  scarcely  see  a  few  paces  be- 
fore me.  After  wandering  about  for  several  hours,  my  horse 
became  weary,  and  I  began  to  despair  of  extricating  myself  from 
the  dreary  plains  of  snow.  Late  in  the  evening  I  reached  a 
little  valley,  where,  sheltered  by  some  rocks,  I  passed  the  night. 
On  the  following  morning  I  renewed  my  journey,  and  after  con- 
siderable exertion  I  arrived  at  an  Indian  hut,  where  I  obtained 
such  directions  as  enabled  me  to  recover  the  right  course. 

The  eastern  declivity  of  the  Pass  of  Piedra  Parada  is  steeper 
than  that  of  Huascacocha.  After  a  difficult  ride  of  about  two 
leagues,  wo  reach  first  the  valley,  and  then  the  village  of  Yauli. 
The  village  lies  at  the  height  of  13,100  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
consists  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miserable  huts,  affording 
habitations  for  between  twelve  and  fourteen  thousand  Indians, 
most  of  whom  are  employed  in  mining. 

The  Cordillera,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Yauli,  is  exceedingly 
rich  in  lead  ore,  containing  silver.  Within  the  circuit  of  a  few 
miles,  above  eight  hundred  shafts  have  been  made,  but  they  have 
not  been  found  sufficiently  productive  to  encourage  extensive 
mining  works.  The  difficulties  which  impede  mine-working  in 
these  parts  are  caused  chiefly  by  the  dearness  of  labor  and  the 
scarcity  of  fuel.  There  being  a  total  want  of  wood,  the  only 
fuel  that  can  be  obtained  consists  of  the  dried  dung  of  sheep, 
llamas,  and  huanacus.  This  fuel  is  called  taquia.  It  produces 
a  very  brisk  and  intense  flame,  and  most  of  the  mine -owners 
prefer  it  to  coal.  The  process  of  smelting,  as  practised  by  the 


MINERAL  SPRINGS.  199 


Indians,  though  extremely  rude  and  imperfect,  is  nevertheless 
adapted  to  local  circumstances.  All  European  attempts  to  im- 
prove the  system  of  smelting  in  these  districts  have  either  totally 
failed,  or  in  their  results  have  proved  less  effective  than  the  sim- 
ple Indian  method.  Complicated  furnaces  made  after  European 
models  are  exceedingly  expensive,  whilst  the  natives  can  con- 
struct theirs  at  the  cost  of  fifty  or  sixty  dollars  each.  These 
Indian  furnaces  can,  moreover,  be  easily  erected  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  mines,  and  when  the  metal  is  not  very  abundant  the  fur- 
naces may  be  abandoned  without  any  great  sacrifice.  For  the 
price  of  one  European  furnace  the  Indians  may  build  more  than 
a  dozen,  in  each  of  which,  notwithstanding  the  paucity  of  fuel, 
a  considerably  greater  quantity  of  metal  may  be  smelted  than  in 
one  of  European  construction. 

About  half  a  league  beyond  Yauli  there  are  upwards  of  twenty 
mineral  springs,  all  situated  within  a  circuit  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  Several  of  them  contain  saline  properties.  One  is  called 
the  Hervidero  (the  whirlpool).  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  funnel,  and 
at  its  upper  part  is  between  ten  and  twelve  feet  diameter.  Its 
surface  is  covered  with  foam.  The  temperature  of  the  water  is 
only  7°  C.  higher  than  the  atmosphere.  Some  of  these  springs 
are  tepid  and  sulphuric  ;  and  the  temperature  of  one  of  them  is 
as  high  as  89°  C.  Near  some  of  the  springs  quadrangular  basins 
have  been  constructed  for  baths,  which  are  said  to  be  very  effica- 
cious in  cutaneous  and  rheumatic  complaints.  The  climate  of 
Yauli  is  exceedingly  rigorous.  In  summer  the  medium  tempera- 
ture of  the  night  is  8°  C.,  but  the  days  are  mild.  In  winter,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  night  is  -f-  1°  C.,  and  the  day  scarcely  -f-  3° 
C.,  as  the  sky  is  continually  overhung  with  thick  clouds,  which 
disperse  themselves  in  continual  falls  of  snow.  I  passed  several 
weeks  in  Yauli  and  in  the  wild  country  around  it,  and  during 
that  time  I  made  many  valuable  additions  to  my  natural  history 
collection. 

The  distance  between  Yauli  and  Pachachaca  is  two  leagues. 
The  road  descends  gently  along  the  right  bank  of  the  Rio  de 
Yauli,  which  forms  the  principal  source  of  the  Rio  de  Oroya. 
In  this  direction,  as  well  as  in  other  parts  adjacent  to  Yauli,  there 
are  numerous  remains  of  mining  works,  formerly  the  property  of 


200  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Portuguese.  These  works  were  destroyed  at  the  time  of  the  per- 
secution of  the  Portuguese  in  Peru,  when  the  consul,  Juan  Bau- 
tista,  was  hanged  by  the  Inquisition,  in  Lima.  Over  those  events 
there  hangs  a  veil  of  mystery,  which  will  probably  never  be  re- 
moved. The  Portuguese  were  the  most  powerful  and  intelligent 
mine-owners  in  Peru,  and  their  prosperity  excited  the  envy  of 
the  Spanish  viceroy.  A  number  of  Portuguese  emigrants,  who 
came  from  Brazil,  to  settle  in  the  Peruvian  province  of  Maynas, 
furnished  the  viceroy  with  a  ground  of  complaint,  real  or  pre- 
tended. He  set  forth  that  the  Portuguese  of  the  eastern  parts  of 
South  America  intended  to  make  themselves  masters  of  Peru, 
and  conjointly  with  the  Inquisition  he  commenced  coercive  mea- 
sures against  them.  Their  consul  was  accused  of  heresy,  con- 
demned and  hanged,  and  the  emigrants  were  pursued  and  put  to 
death.  Some  of  them  escaped  into  the  forests,  where  they  were 
massacred  by  the  Indians,  and  only  a  very  few  succeeded  in 
getting  back  to  Brazil.  Many  of  the  wealthy  Portuguese  mine- 
owners,  seeing  the  danger  that  threatened  them,  sank  their  vast 
treasures  in  lakes,  or  buried  them  in  retired  places  in  the  plains. 
These  treasures  consisted  chiefly  of  smelted  ore  and  silver  coin, 
and  only  a  very  small  portion  was  afterwards  discovered.  Thus 
were  these  active  and  intelligent  mine-owners  sacrificed,  either 
to  a  chimerical  and  unfounded  suspicion,  or  to  a  feeling  of  ava- 
rice, which,  after  all,  failed  in  attaining  its  object.  The  conse- 
quences were  disastrous  to  the  country.  Peruvian  mining  has 
never  recovered  the  prosperity  which  it  enjoyed  under  the  ma- 
nagement of  the  Portuguese. 

Between  Yauli  and  Pachachaca  the  way  is  difficult,  and  with- 
out an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  route,  the  traveller  is  likely  to 
lose  his  way,  and  may  even  incur  the  danger  of  sinking  in  the 
marshes  which  spread  along  the  bank  of  the  river.  From  Pa- 
chachaca a  broad '  and  gentle  sloping  valley  conducts  to  La 
Oroya,  a  distance  of  about  three  leagues.  In  the  range  of  moun- 
tains forming  the  southern  boundary  of  this  valley,  the  river 
winds  its  way  through  deep  ravines.  About  half  a  league  from 
Pachachaca  there  is  a  ford  where  the  road  divides ;  one  division 
passing  over  the  steep  mountains  of  Yanaclara  to  Jauja,  and  the 
other  running  into  the  wild  valleys  of  Huayhuay.  Midway 


HANGING  BRIDGES.  201 


between  Pachachaca  and  La  Oroya  there  is  a  small,  miserable 
Indian  village  called  Saco,  which  is  seldom  visited  by  travellers, 
as  it  is  difficult  to  procure  in  it  the  commonest  necessaries  of 
food.  In  this  place  there  is  a  natural  bridge  across  the  river, 
which  has  worked  out  a  bed  for  itself  beneath  the  rocks.  At 
several  points  along  the  course  of  this  river  I  observed  similar 
bridges  of  rock,  but  this  one  only  is  passable  for  horses. 

La  Oroya  lies  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  of  that  name,  and 
communicates  with  the  right  bank  by  means  of  a  large  hanging 
bridge  (Puente  de  Soga).  These  bridges  are  composed  of  four 
ropes  (sogas)  made  of  twisted  cow-hide,  and  about  the  thickness 
of  a  man's  arm.  The  four  ropes  are  connected  together  by  thin- 
ner ones  of  the  same  material,  fastened  over  them  transversely. 
The  whole  is  covered  with  branches,  straw,  and  roots  of  the 
Agave  tree.  On  either  side,  a  rope  rather  more  than  two  feet 
above  the  bridge  serves  as  a  balustrade.  The  sogas  are  fastened 
on  each  bank  of  the  river  by  piles,  or  riveted  into  the  rock. 
During  the  long  continuous  rains  these  bridges  become  loose  and 
require  to  be  tightened ;  but  they  are  always  lower  in  the  middle 
than  at  the  ends,  and  when  passengers  are  crossing  them  they 
swing  like  hammocks.  It  requires  some  practice,  and  a  very 
steady  head,  to  go  over  the  soga  bridges  unaccompanied  by  a 
Puentero.*  However  strongly  made,  they  are  not  durable  ;  for 
the  changeableness  of  the  weather  quickly  rots  the  ropes,  which 
are  made  of  untanned  leather.  They  frequently  require  repair- 
ing, and  travellers  have  sometimes  no  alternative  but  to  wait  for 
several  days  until  a  bridge  is  passable,  or  to  make  a  circuit  of 
20  or  30  leagues.  The  Puente  de  Soga  of  Oroya  is  fifty  yards 
long,  and  one  and  a  half  broad.  It  is  one  of  the  largest  in  Peru  ; 
but  the  bridge  across  the  Apurimac,  in  the  province  of  Ayacucho, 
is  nearly  twice  as  long,  and  it  is  carried  over  a  much  deeper 
gulf. 

Another  curious  kind  of  bridge  is  that  called  the  Huaro.  It 
consists  of  a  thick  rope  extending  over  a  river  or  across  a  rocky 
chasm.  To  this  rope  are  affixed  a  roller,  and  a  strong  piece  of 

*  The  Puenteros  (Bridge  Guides)  are  Indians  who  assist  travellers  in 
crossing  these  dangerous  bridges 


202  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


wood  formed  like  a  yoke,  and  by  means  of  two  smaller  ropes, 
this  yoke  is  drawn  along  the  thick  rope  which  forms  the  bridge. 
The  passenger  who  has  to  cross  the  Huaro  is  tied  to  the  yoke, 
and  grasps  it  firmly  with  both  hands.  His  feet,  which  are  cross- 
ed one  over  the  other,  rest  on  the  thick  rope,  and  the  head  is  held 
as  erectly  as  possible.  All  these  preliminaries  being  completed, 
an  Indian,  stationed  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  or  chasm, 
draws  the  passenger  across  the  Huaro.  This  is  altogether  the 
most  disagreeable  and  dangerous  mode  of  conveyance  that  can 
possibly  be  conceived.  If  the  rope  breaks,  an  accident  of  no  un- 
frequent  occurrence,  the  hapless  traveller  has  no  chance  of  es- 
caping with  life,  for  being  fastened,  he  can  make  no  effort  to  save 
himself.  Horses  and  mules  are  driven  by  the  Indians  into  the 
river,  and  are  made  to  swim  across  it,  in  doing  which  they  fre- 
quently perish,  especially  when  being  exhausted  by  a  long  jour- 
ney, they  have  not  strength  to  contend  against  the  force  of  the 
current. 

The  village  of  Oroya,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
bridge,  is  built  on  a  declivity,  and  according  to  Maclean's  calcu- 
lation is  12,010  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  contains  fifty- 
one  miserable  huts,  which  are  the  habitations  of  about  two  hun- 
dred Indians.  From  Oroya  several  roads  branch  off  into  the 
different  mountain  districts.  The  most  frequented  is  that  over 
the  level  height  of  Cachi-Cachi  to  Jauja.  Along  this  road  there  are 
extensive  tracts  of  ground  covered  with  calcareous  petrifactions. 
Another  road  leading  to  Tarma  passes  by  the  ancient  Inca  for- 
tress Huichay.  A  third,  and  much  frequented  road  is  that  by 
way  of  Huaypacha,  and  from  thence  to  Junin  and  Cerro  de 
Pasco. 


TRAVELS    II    PERU 


DURING  THE   YEARS  1838-1842, 


ON  THE  COAST,  IN  THE  SIERRA,  ACROSS   THE  CORDILLERAS 
AND  THE  ANDES,  INTO  THE  PRIMEVAL  FORESTS. 


BY  DR.  J.  J.  VON  TSCHUDI. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 


BY  THOMASINA  ROSS. 


IN   TWO   PARTS PART   II. 


NEW  YORK: 
WILE1?    &    PUTNAM,    161    BROADWAY. 

1847. 


a  v 


THE  TERMS  ANDES  AND  CORDILLERA.       203 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  Cordillera  and  the  Andes — Signification  of  the  terms — Altitude  of  the 
Mountains  and  Passes — Lakes — Metals — Aspect  of  the  Cordillera — Shat- 
tered Rocks — Maladies  caused  by  the  diminished  Atmospheric  Pressure 
— The  Veta  and  the  Surumpe — Mountain  Storms— The  Condor— Its 
habits — Indian  mode  of  Catching  the  Bird — The  Puna  or  Despoblado — 
Climate — Currents  of  Warm  Air — Vegetation — Tuberous  Plant  called 
the  Maca — Animals  of  the  Puna — The  Llama,  the  Alpaco,  the  Huanacu 
and  the  Vicuna — The  Chacu  and  the  Bolas — Household  Utensils  of  the 
Ancient  Peruvians — The  Viscacha  and  the  Chinchilla — Puna  Birds  and 
Amphibia — Cattle  and  Pasture — Indian  Farms — Shepherds'  Huts — An- 
cient Peruvian  Roads  and  Buildings — Treasure  concealed  by  the  Indians 
in  the  Puna. 

Two  great  mountain  chains,  running  parallel  with  each  other, 
intersect  Peru  in  the  direction  from  S.S.W.  to  N.N.E.  The 
chain  nearest  the  coast  of  the  Pacific  is  at  the  average  distance 
of  from  sixty  to  seventy  English  miles  from  the  sea.  The  other 
chain  takes  a  parallel  direction  but  describes  throughout  its  whole 
course  a  slight  curve  eastward.  These  two  ranges  of  mountain 
are  called  the  Cordilleras,  or  the  Andes :  both  terms  being  used 
indiscriminately.  Even  the  Creoles  of  Peru  confound  these  two 
terms,  sometimes  calling  the  western  chain  by  one  name,  and 
sometimes  by  the  other.  Nevertheless,  a  strict  distinction  ought 
to  be  observed : — the  western  chain  should  properly  be  called 
the  Cordillera,  and  tne  eastern  chain  the  Andes.  The  latter 
name  is  derived  from  the  Quichua  word  Antasuyu ;  Anta  signi- 
fying metal  generally,  but  especially  copper,  and  Suyu  a  district ; 
the  meaning  of  Antasuyu,  therefore,  is  the  metal  district.  In 
common  parlance,  the  word  Suyu  was  dropped,  and  the  termina- 
tion a  in  Anta  was  converted  into  is.  Hence  the  word  Antis, 
which  is  employed  by  all  old  writers  and  geographers ;  and  even 
now  is  in  common  use  among  the  Indian  population  of  Southern 


204  TRAVELS  ,N  PERU. 


Peru.  The  Spaniards,  according  to  their  practice  of  corrupting 
the  words  of  the  Quichua  language,  have  transformed  Antis  into 
Andes,  and  they  apply  the  name  without  distinction  to  the  western 
and  the  eastern  chain  of  mountains.* 

The  old  inhabitants  of  Peru  dwelt  chiefly  along  the  base  of 
the  eastern  mountain  chain,  where  they  drew  from  the  mines 
the  metal  which  afforded  material  for  their  tasteful  and  ingenious 
workmanship :  those  mountains  consequently  retained  the  name 
of  Antis  or  Andes.  In  the  time  of  the  Incas,  both  chains  were 
called  Ritisuyu  (Snow-Districts).  The  Spaniards,  on  the  inva- 
sion of  the  country,  advancing  from  the  sea-coast,  first  arrived 
at  the  western  mountains,  and  to  them  they  gave  the  name  of 
Cordillera,  the  term  commonly  employed  in  the  Spanish  lan- 
guage, to  designate  any  mountain  cKain.  Most  of  the  earlier  tra- 
vellers and  topographists  named  the  western  chain  the  Cordillera 
de  los  Andes,  and  regarded  it  as  the  principal  chain,  of  which 
they  considered  the  eastern  mountains  to  be  merely  a  branch. 
To  the  eastern  range  of  mountains  they  gave  the  name  of  Cor- 
dillera Oriental.  I  will  here  strictly  observe  the  correct  de- 
nominations, calling  the  western  chain  the  Cordillera,  or  the 
coast  mountains ;  and  the  eastern  chain  the  Andes,  or  the  inner 
Cordillera. 

These  two  great  mountain  chains  stand  in  respect  to  height 
in  an  inverse  relation  one  to  the  other  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  greater 
the  elevation  of  the  Cordillera,  the  more  considerable  is  the  de- 
pression of  the  Andes.  In  South  Peru  the  ridge  of  the  Cordillera 
is  considerably  lower  than  that  portion  of  the  Andes  which 
stretches  through  Bolivia.  The  medium  height  of  the  Cordillera 
in  South  Peru  is  15,000  feet  above  the  sea ;  but  here  and  there 
particular  points  rise  to  a  much  more  considerable  elevation. 
The  medium  height  of  the  Andes  is  17,000  feet  above  the  sea. 
In  central  Peru  the  Cordillera  is  higher  than  the  Andes.  There 
the  altitude  of  the  latter  along  the  body  of  the  chain  is  13,000 
feet  above  the  sea :  on  the  ridge  there  are  a  few  points  some 

*  Some  derive  the  word  Andes  from  the  people  called  Antis,  who  dwelt 
at  the  foot  of  these  chains  of  mountains.  A  province  in  the  department  of 
Cuzco,  which  was  probably  the  chief  settlement  of  that  nation,  still  bears 
the  name  of  Antas. 


METALLIC  PRODUCE  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS.  205 

hundred  feet  higher.  Between  Pasco  and  Loxas  the  average 
height  of  the  Cordillera  is  between  11,000  and  12,000  feet  above 
the  sea ;  and  the  average  elevation  of  the  Andes  at  the  corre- 
sponding point  is  about  2000  feet  lower. 

The  passes  do  not  run  through  valleys,  but  always  over  the 
ridges  of  the  mountains.  The  highest  mountain  passes  are  the 
Rinconada  (16,452  feet  above  the  sea);  the  Piedra  Parada 
(16,008  feet)  ;  the  Tingo  (15,600  feet);  the  Huatillas  (14,850 
feet);  the  Portachuelo  de  la  Viuda  (14,544  feet);  the  Altos  de 
Toledo  (15,530  feet) ;  and  the  Altos  de  los  Huesos  (14,300  feet). 
In  both  chains  there  are  innumerable  small  lakes;  these  are 
met  with  in  all  the  mountain  passes,  and  most  of  them  are  the 
sources  of  small  rivers. 

Both  the  mountain  chains,  as  well  as  their  lateral  branches,  are 
rich  in  metallic  produce  ;  but  in  the  principal  mountains  gold  is 
rare.  Some  rich  mines  on  the  coast,  and  in  the  province  of 
Arequipa,  are  now  nearly  exhausted.  Wash  gold  is  plentiful  in 
the  rivers  of  North  Peru,  but  it  is  not  carefully  collected.  Silver, 
which  constitutes  the  principal  wealth  of  Peru,  is  found  in  greatest 
abundance  in  the  principal  chains,  viz.,  in  Northern  and  Central 
Peru,  in  the  Cordillera ;  and  in  Southern  Peru  in  the  Andes.  It 
presents  itself  in  all  forms  and  combinations,  from  the  pure  metal 
to  the  lead-ore  mixed  with  silver.  Even  in  the  highest  elevations, 
in  parts  scarcely  trodden  by  human  footsteps,  rich  veins  of  silver 
are  discovered.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  pass  half  a  day  in  these 
regions  without  encountering  new  streaks.  Quicksilver  is  like- 
wise found,  but  in  such  small  quantities,  that  the  gain  does  not 
pay  the  labor  of  the  miners.  The  only  quicksilver  vein  of  any 
magnitude  is  at  Huancavelica.  Both  mountain  chains  are  very 
rich  in  copper-ore ;  but  it  is  extracted  only  from  the  Cordillera, 
for  the  distance  of  the  Andes  from  the  coast  renders  the  trans- 
port too  expensive.  The  lead  and  iron  mines,  though  amazingly 
prolific,  are  not  worked ;  the  price  of  the  metal  being  too  low  to 
pay  the  labor. 

The  Cordillera  presents  an  aspect  totally  different  from  that  of 
tlw  Andes.  It  is  more  wild  and  rugged,  its  ridge  is  broader,  and 
its  summits  less  pyramidical.  The  summits  of  the  Andes  ter- 
minate in  slender  sharp  points  like  needles.  The  Cordillera 


206  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


descends  in  terraces  to  the  level  heights,  whilst  the  slope  of  the 
Andes  is  uniform  and  unbroken.  The  summits  of  the  calcareous 
hills  which  stretch  eastward  from  the  great  chain  of  the  Cordillera 
are  broken  and  rugged.  Large  cubical  blocks  of  stone  become 
detached  from  them,  and  roll  down  into  the  valleys.  In  the 
Quebrada  of  Huari  near  Yanaclara,  which  is  13,000  feet  above 
the  sea,  I  collected  among  other  fragments  of  rock  some  of  a 
species  which  is  found  at  Neufchatel  in  Switzerland.  This  dis- 
integration, which  is  the  effect  of  protracted  rain  and  cold,  imparts 
to  the  mountain  ridges  the  most  singular  and  beautiful  forms ; 
their  fantastic  outlines  appearing  like  the  work  of  human  hands. 
Imagination  may  easily  picture  them  to  be  monuments  of  the 
time  of  the  Incas ;  for  viewed  from  a  distance,  they  look  like 
groups  of  giants  or  colossal  animals.  In  former  times  the  Indians 
viewed  these  masses  of  rock  with  devout  reverence,  for  they 
believed  them  to  be  the  early  inhabitants  of  the  earth  whom 
Pacchacamac  in  his  anger  transformed  to  stone.  I  may  here 
notice  some  very  curious  forms  of  rock  which  have  long  been  a 
subject  of  controversy  among  Peruvian  travellers.  On  the  road 
leading  from  Ayacucho  to  Huancavelica,  on  the  level  height  of 
Paucara,  about  a  league  beyond  the  village  of  Parcos,  there  is  a 
considerable  number  of  sand-stone  pyramids  from  eight  to  twenty- 
two  feet  high.  They  are  of  a  reddish- white  color ;  but  in  many 
places  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  has  overspread  them  with 
a  blackish  crust.  They  are  detached  one  from  another.  Ulloa, 
in  his  Noticias  Americanas,  after  fully  describing  these  pyramids, 
declares  himself  doubtful  whether  they  are  the  work  of  man  or 
of  nature.  He  inclines  to  regard  them  as  human  creations,  and 
suggests  that  they  may  possibly  have  been  the  tombs  of  distin- 
guished curacas  and  caciques ;  but  he  admits  that  he  is  not 
acquainted  with  any  similar  monuments  in  Peru.  As  each 
pyramid  consists  of  only  one  block  of  stone,  and  all  are  very 
regularly  shaped,  Ulloa  is  not  indisposed  to  believe  that  the 
Indians  possessed  the  secret  art  of  melting  stone.  These  blocks 
are,  however,  of  sand-stone,  and  their  fractures  are  the  result  of 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  They  are  all  pyramidal-shaped, 
and  tolerably  equal  in  size.  In  several  of  them  the  points  are  as 
sharp  and  regular  as  though  they  had  been  wrought  by  the  chisel 


THE  VETA.  207 


of  the  sculptor.  These  curious  pyramids  cover  the  plateau  along 
a  distance  of  more  than  two  miles :  sometimes  standing  closely 
together,  and  sometimes  at  considerable  distances  apart.  The 
whole  line  of  chalk  and  slate  mountains  extending  from  Ayacucho 
to  Huancavelica  is  shattered,  and  presents  similar,  though  less 
regular  detritus. 

I  have,  in  my  last  chapter,  observed  that  the  Cordillera  is  thg 
point  of  partition  between  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  and  the 
Atlantic  Oceans.  All  the  waters  of  the  eastern  declivity  of  the 
Cordillera — all  those  which  have  their  source  on  the  level  heights 
and  on  the  western  declivity  of  the  Andes, — flow  from  thence  in 
the  direction  of  the  east,  and  work  their  way  through  the  eastern 
mountain  chain.  Throughout  the  whole  extent  of  South  America 
there  is  not  a  single  instance  of  the  Cordillera  being  intersected 
by  a  river ;  a  fact  the  more  remarkable  because  in  Southern 
Peru  and  Bolivia,  the  coast  chain  is  lower  than  the  Andes.  This 
interesting  phenomenon,  though  it  has  deeply  engaged  the  atten- 
tion of  geologists,  has  not  yet  been  satisfactorily  explained.  I 
concur  in  the  view  taken  by  Mr.  Darwin,  who  observes  that  it 
would  be  too  rash  to  assign  to  the  eastern  chain  of  Bolivia  and 
Central  Chile,  a  later  origin  than  the  western  chain  (the  nearest 
the  Pacific),  but  that  the  circumstance  of  the  rivers  of  a  lower 
mountain  chain  having  forced  their  way  through  a  higher  chain 
seems,  without  this  supposition,  to  be  enigmatical.  Mr.  Darwin 
is  of  opinion  that  the  phenomenon  is  assignable  to  a  periodical 
and  gradual  elevation  of  the  second  mountain  line  (the  Andes)  ; 
for  a  chain  of  islets  would  at  first  appear,  and  as  these  were  lifted 
up,  the  tides  would  be  always  wearing  deeper  and  broader  chan- 
nels between  them. 

In  the  heights  of  the  Cordillera  the  effect  of  the  diminished 
atmospheric  pressure  on  the  human  frame  shows  itself  in  in- 
tolerable symptoms  of  weariness  and  an  extreme  difficulty  of 
breathing.  The  natives  call  this  malady  the  Puna  or  the  Soroche  ; 
and  the  Spanish  Creoles  give  it  the  names  of  Mareo  or  Veta. 
Ignorant  of  its  real  causes  they  ascribe  it  to  the  exhalations  of 
metals,  especially  antimony,  which  is  extensively  used  in  the 
mining  operations.  The  first  symptoms  of  the  veta  are  usually 
felt  at  the  elevation  of  12,600  feet  above  the  sea.  These  symp- 


208  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


toms  are  vertigo,  dimness  of  sight  and  hearing,  pains  in  the  head 
and  nausea.  Blood  flows  from  the  eyes,  nose,  and  lips.  Faint- 
ing fits,  spitting  of  blood,  and  other  dangerous  symptoms,  usually 
attend  severe  attacks  of  veta.  The  sensations  which  accompany 
this  malady  somewhat  resemble  those  of  sea-sickness,  and  hence 
its  Spanish  name  mareo.  But  sea-sickness  is  unaccompanied  by 
the  distressing  difficulty  of  breathing  experienced  in  the  veta. 
This  disorder  sometimes  proves  fatal,  and  I  once  witnessed  a 
case  in  which  death  was  the  result.  Inhabitants  of  the  coast  and 
Europeans,  who  for  the  first  time  visit  the  lofty  regions  of  the 
Cordillera,  are  usually  attacked  with  this  disorder.  Persons  in 
good  health  and  of  a  spare  habit  speedily  recover  from  it,  but  on 
plethoric  and  stout  individuals  its  effects  are  frequently  very 
severe.  After  an  abode  of  some  time  in  the  mountainous  regions, 
the  constitution  becomes  inured  to  the  rarefied  atmosphere.  I 
suffered  only  two  attacks  of  the  veta  ;  but  they  were  very  severe. 
The  first  was  on  one  of  the  level  heights  ;  and  the  second  on  the 
mountain  of  Antaichahua.  The  first  time  I  ascended  the  Cor- 
dillera I  did  not  experience  the  slightest  illness,  and  I  congra- 
tulated myself  on  having  escaped  the  veta ;  but  a  year  afterwards 
I  had  an  attack  of  it,  though  only  of  a  few  hours'  duration.  The 
veta  is  felt  with  great  severity  in  some  districts  of  the  Cordillera, 
whilst  in  others,  where  the  altitude  is  greater,  the  disorder  is 
scarcely  perceptible.  Thus  it  would  seem  that  the  malady  is 
not  caused  by  diminished  atmospheric  pressure,  but  is  dependent 
on  some  unknown  climatic  circumstances.  The  districts  in  which 
the  veta  prevails  with  greatest  intensity  are,  for  the  most  part, 
rich  in  the  production  of  metals,  a  circumstance  which  has  given 
rise  to  the  idea  that  it  is  caused  by  metallic  exhalations. 

I  have  already  described  the  effect  of  the  Puna  climate  on 
beasts  of  burthen.  Its  influence  on  some  of  the  domestic  animals 
is  no  less  severe  than  on  the  human  race.  To  cats,  it  is  very 
fatal,  and  at  the  elevation  of  13,000  feet  above  the  sea  those  ani- 
mals cannot  live.  Numerous  trials  have  been  made  to  rear  them 
in  the  villages  of  the  upper  mountains,  but  without  effect ;  for 
after  a  few  days'  abode  in  those  regions,  the  animals  die  in 
frightful  convulsions ;  but  when  in  this  state  they  do  not  attempt 
to  bite.  I  had  two  good  opportunities  of  obseiving  the  disease  at 


THE  SURUMPE.  209 


Yauli.  Cats  attacked  in  this  way  are  called,  by  the  natives, 
azorochados,  and  antimony  is  alleged  to  be  the  cause  of  the  dis- 
temper. Dogs  are  also  liable  to  it,  but  it  visits  them  less  severely 
than  cats,  and  with  care  they  may  be  recovered. 

Another  scourge  of  the  traveller  in  the  Cordillera,  is  the  dis- 
ease called  the  Surumpe.  It  is  a  violent  inflammation  of  the  eyes, 
caused  by  the  sudden  reflection  of  the  bright  rays  of  the  sun  on 
the  snow.  By  the  rarefied  air  and  the  cutting  wind,  the  eyes, 
being  kept  in  a  constant  state  of  irritation,  are  thereby  rendered 
very  susceptible  to  the  effects  of  the  glaring  light.  In  these 
regions  the  sky  is  often  for  a  time  completely  overshadowed  by 
snow  clouds,  and  the  greenish  yellow  of  the  plain  is  soon  covered 
by  a  sheet  of  snow :  then  suddenly  the  sun's  rays  burst  through 
the  breaking  clouds,  and  the  eyes,  unprepared  for  the  dazzling 
glare,  are  almost  blinded.  A  sharp  burning  pain  is  immediately 
felt,  and  it  speedily  increases  to  an  intolerable  degree.  The  eyes 
become  violently  inflamed,  and  the  lids  swell  and  bleed.  The 
pain  of  the  surumpe  is  the  most  intense  that  can  be  imagined, 
and  frequently  brings  on  delirium.  The  sensation  resembles 
that  which  it  may  be  imagined  would  be  felt  if  cayenne  pepper 
or  gunpowder  were  rubbed  into  the  eyes.  Chronic  inflammation, 
swenllig  of  the  eyelids,  dimness  of  sight,  and  even  total  blindness 
are  the  frequent  consequences  of  the  surumpe.  In  the  Cordillera, 
Indians  are  often  seen  sitting  by  the  road-side  shrieking  in  agony, 
and  unable  to  proceed  on  their  way.  They  are  more  liable  to 
the  disease  than  the  Creoles,  who,  when  travelling  in  the  moun- 
tains, protect  their  eyes  by  green  spectacles  and  veils. 

Heavy  falls  of  snow  in  the  Cordillera  are  usually  accompanied 
by  thunder  and  lightning.  During  five  months  of  the  year,  from 
November  to  March,  storms  are  of  daily  occurrence.  They 
begin,  with  singular  regularity,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, and  continue  until  five  or  half-past  five  in  the  evening. 
After  that  time  storms  of  thunder  and  lightning  never  occur  ; 
but  the  falls  of  snow  sometimes  continue  till  midnight.  As 
evening  approaches,  cold  mists  are  drifted  from  the  mountain- 
tops  down  upon  the  plains ;  but  they  are  dispersed  by  the  rays 
of  the  morning  sun,  which  in  a  few  hours  melt  the  snow.  The 
furious  tempests  in  these  regions  exceed  any  idea  that  can  be 


210  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


formed  of  them,  and  can  only  be  conceived  by  those  who  nave 
witnessed  them.  Some  of  these  mountain  districts  have  acquired 
an  ominous  character  for  storms ;  Antaichahua  is  one  of  the 
places  to  which  this  sort  of  fearful  celebrity  belongs.  For  hours 
together  flash  follows  flash,  painting  blood-red  cataracts  on  the 
naked  precipices.  The  forked  lightning  darts  its  zig-zag  flashes 
on  the  mountain-tops,  or,  running  along  the  ground,  imprints 
deep  furrows  in  its  course  ;  whilst  the  atmosphere  quivers  amidst 
uninterrupted  peals  of  thunder,  repeated  a  thousandfold  by  the 
mountain  echoes.  The  traveller,  overtaken  by  these  terrific 
storms,  dismounts  from  his  trembling  horse,  and  takes  refuge 
beneath  the  shelter  of  some  overhanging  rock. 

In  these  sterile  heights,  Nature  withholds  her  fostering  influ- 
ence alike  from  vegetable  and  animal  life.  The  scantiest  vege- 
tation can  scarcely  draw  nutriment  from  the  ungenial  soil,  and 
animals  shun  the  dreary  and  shelterless  wilds.  The  condor 
alone  finds  itself  in  its  native  element  amidst  these  mountain 
deserts.  On  the  inaccessible  summits  of  the  Cordillera  that  bird 
builds  its  nest,  and  hatches  its  young  in  the  months  of  April  and 
May.  Few  animals  have  attained  so  universal  a  celebrity  as 
the  condor.  That  bird  was  known  in  Europe,  at  a  period  when 
his  native  land  was  numbered  among  those  fabulous  regions  which 
are  regarded  as  the  scenes  of  imaginary  wonders.  The  most 
extravagant  accounts  of  the  condor  were  written  and  read,  and 
general  credence  was  granted  to  every  story  which  travellers 
brought  from  the  fairy  land  of  gold  and  silver.  It  was  only  at 
the  commencement  of  the  present  century  that  Humboldt  over- 
threw the  extravagant  notions  that  previously  prevailed  respect- 
ing the  size,  strength,  and  habits  of  that  extraordinary  bird. 

The  full-grown  condor  measures,  from  the  point  of  the  beak 
to  the  end  of  the  tail,  from  four  feet  ten  inches  to  five  feet ;  and 
from  the  tip  of  one  wing  to  the  other,  from  twelve  to  thirteen 
feet.  This  bird  feeds  chiefly  on  carrion  :  it  is  only  when  im- 
pelled by  hunger  that  he  seizes  living  animals,  and  even  then 
only  the  small  and  defenceless,  such  as  the  young  of  sheep, 
vicunas,  and  llamas.  He  cannot  raise  great  weights  with  his 
feet,  which,  however,  he  uses  to  aid  the  power  of  his  beak.  The 
principal  strength  of  the  condor  lies  in  his  neck  and  in  his  feet ; 


THE  CONDOR.  211 


yet  he  cannot,  when  flying,  carry  a  weight  exceeding  eight  or 
ten  pounds.  All  accounts  of  sheep  and  calves  being  carried  off 
by  condors  are  mere  exaggerations.  This  bird  passes  a  great 
part  of  the  day  in  sleep,  and  hovers  in  quest  of  prey  chiefly  in 
the  morning  and  evening.  Whilst  soaring  at  a  height  beyond 
the  reach  of  human  eyes,  the  sharp-sighted  condor  discerns  his 
prey  on  the  level  heights  beneath  him,  and  darts  down  upon  it 
with  the  swiftness  of  lightning.  When  a  bait  is  laid,  it  is  cu- 
rious to  observe  the  numbers  of  condors  which  assemble  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  in  a  spot  near  which  not  one  had  been  pre- 
viously visible.  These  birds  possess  the  senses  of  sight  ana 
smell  in  a  singularly  powerful  degree. 

Some  old  travellers,  Ulloa  among  others,  have  affirmed  that  the 
plumage  of  the  condor  is  invulnerable  to  a  musket-ball.  This 
absurdity  is  scarcely  worthy  of  contradiction ;  but  it  is  never- 
theless  true  that  the  bird  has  a  singular  tenacity  of  life,  and  that 
it  is  seldom  killed  by  fire-arms,  unless  when  shot  in  some  vital 
part.  Its  plumage,  particularly  on  the  wings,  is  very  strong  and 
thick.  The  natives,  therefore,  seldom  attempt  to  shoot  the  con- 
dor :  they  usually  catch  him  by  traps  or  by  the  laso,  or  kill  him 
by  stones  flung  from  slings,  or  by  the  Bolas.  A  curious  method 
of  capturing  the  condor  alive  is  practised  in  the  province  of 
Abancay.  A  fresh  cow-hide,  with  some  fragments  of  flesh  ad- 
hering to  it,  is  spread  out  on  one  of  the  level  heights,  and  an 
Indian  provided  with  ropes  creeps  beneath  it,  whilst  some  others 
station  themselves  in  ambush  near  the  spot,  ready  to  assist  him. 
Presently  a  condor,  attracted  by  the  smell  of  flesh,  darts  down 
upon  the  cow-hide,  and  then  the  Indian,  who  is  concealed  under 
it,  seizes  the  bird  by  the  legs,  and  binds  them  fast  in  the  skin,  as 
if  in  a  bag.  The  captured  condor  flaps  his  wings,  and  makes 
ineffectual  attempts  to  fly  ;  but  he  is  speedily  secured,  and  car- 
ried in  triumph  to  the  nearest  village. 

The  Indians  quote  numerous  instances  of  young  children  hav- 
ing been  attacked  by  condors.  That  those  birds  are  sometimes 
extremely  fierce  is  very  certain.  The  following  occurrence 
came  within  my  own  knowledge,  whilst  I  was  in  Lima.  I  had 
a  condor,  which,  when  he  first  came  into  my  possession,  was 
very  young.  To  prevent  his  escape,  as  soon  as'he  was  able  to 


212  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


fly,  he  was  fastened  by  the  leg  to  a  chain,  to  which  was  attached 
a  piece  of  iron  of  about  six  pounds  weight.  He  had  a  large 
court  to  range  in,  and  he  dragged  the  piece  of  iron  about  after 
him  all  day.  When  he  was  a  year  and  a  half  old  he  flew  away, 
with  the  chain  arid  iron  attached  to  his  leg,  and  perched  on  the 
spire  of  the  church  of  Santo  Tomas,  whence  he  was  scared  away 
by  the  carrion  hawks.  On  alighting  in  the  street,  a  Negro  at- 
tempted to  catch  him  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  him  home  ; 
upon  which  he  seized  the  poor  creature  by  the  ear,  and  tore  it 
completely  off.  He  then  attacked  a  child  in  the  street  (a  negro 
boy  of  three  years  old),  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and  knocked 
him  on  the  head  so  severely  with  his  beak,  that  the  child  died  in 
consequence  of  the  injuries.  I  hoped  to  have  brought  this  bird 
alive  to  Europe  ;  but,  after  being  at  sea  two  months  on  our  home- 
ward voyage,  he  died  on  board  the  ship  in  the  latitude  of  Monte 
Video. 

Between  the  Cordillera  and  the  Andes,  at  the  height  of  12,000 
feet  above  the  sea,  there  are  vast  tracts  of  uninhabited  table- 
lands. These  are  called  in  the  Quichua  language  the  Puna ; 
and  the  Spaniards  give  them  the  name  of  the  DespoUado  (the 
uninhabited).  These  table-lands  form  the  upper  mountain  regions 
of  the  South  American  Highlands.  They  spread  over  the  whole 
extent  of  Peru,  from  north-west  to  south-east,  a  distance  of  350 
Spanish  miles,  continuing  through  Bolivia,  and  gradually  running 
eastward  into  the  Argentine  Republic.  With  reference  to  geo- 
graphy and  natural  history,  these  table-lands  present  a  curious 
contrast  to  the  Llanos  (plains)  of  South  America,  situated  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Andes  to  the  north-east.  Those  boundless  de- 
serts, full  of  organic  life,  are,  like  the  Puna,  among  the  most 
interesting  characteristics  of  the  New  World. 

The  climate  of  these  regions  is  not  less  rigorous  than  that  of 
the  high  mountain  ridges.  Cold  winds  from  the  west  and  south- 
west, blow  nearly  all  the  year  round  from  the  ice-topped  Cor- 
dillera ;  and  for  the  space  of  four  months  these  winds  are  daily 
accompanied  by  thunder,  lightning,  and  snow-storms.  The 
average  state  of  the  thermometer  during  the  cold  season  (which 
is  called  summer,  because  it  then  seldom  snows)  is,  during 
the  night,  — 5°  R.  ;  and  at  midday,  -f  9°  7'  R.  In  winter 


STREAMS  OF  WARM  AIR.  213 

the  mercury  seldom  falls  during  the  night  below  freezing  point, 
and  it  continues  between  +  1°  and  0°  R.  ;  but  at  noon  it  ascends 
only  to  7°  R.  It  is,  however,  quite  impossible  to  determine  with 
precision  the  medium  temperature  of  these  regions.  For  the 
space  of  a  few  hours  the  heat  will  frequently  vary  between  18° 
and  20°  R.  The  transition  is  the  more  sensibly  felt  on  the  fall 
of  the  temperature,  as  it  is  usually  accompanied  by  sharp-biting 
winds,  so  keen,  that  they  cut  the  skin  on  the  face  and  hands.  A 
remarkable  effect  of  the  Puna  wind  is  its  power  of  speedily  dry- 
ing animal  bodies,  and  thereby  preventing  putridity.  A  dead 
mule  is,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  converted  into  a  mummy ; 
not  even  the  entrails  presenting  the  least  trace  of  decomposition. 

It  frequently  happens  that,  after  being  long  exposed  to  these 
cold  winds,  the  traveller  enters  warm  atmospheric  currents. 
These  warm  streams  are  sometimes  only  two  or  three  paces,  and 
at  other  times,  several  hundred  feet  broad.  They  run  in  a  paral- 
lel direction  with  each  other,  and  one  may  pass  through  five  or 
six  of  them  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours.  On  the  level  heights 
between  Chacapalpa  and  Huancavelica,  I  remarked  that  they 
were  especially  frequent  during  the  months  of  August  and  Sep- 
tember. According  to  my  repeated  observations,  I  found  that 
these  warm  streams  chiefly  follow  the  direction  of  the  Cordillera ; 
namely,  from  S.S.W.  to  N.N.E.  I  once  travelled  the  distance 
of  several  leagues  through  a  succession  of  these  currents  of  warm 
air,  none  of  which  exceeded  seven-and-twenty  paces  in  breadth. 
Their  temperature  was  11°  R.  higher  than  that  of  the  adjacent 
atmosphere.  It  would  appear  they  are  not  merely  temporary, 
for  the  mule-drivers  can  often  foretel  with  tolerable  accuracy 
where  they  will  be  encountered.  The  causes  of  these  pheno- 
mena well  merit  the  investigation  of  meteorologists. 

The  aspect  of  the  Puna  is  singularly  monotonous  and  dreary. 
The  expansive  levels  are  scantily  covered  with  grasses  of  a  yel- 
lowish-brown hue,  and  are  never  enlivened  by  fresh-looking 
verdure.  Here  and  there,  at  distant  intervals,  may  be  seen  a 
few  stunted  Quefiua  trees  (Polylepis  racemosa,  R.  P.),  or  large 
patches  of  ground  covered  with  the  Ratanhia  shrub*  (Krameria 

*  From  the  most  remote  times  the  Ratanhia  has  been  employed  by  the 


214  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


triandria,  R.  P.).  Both  are  used  by  the  Indians  as  fuel,  and  for 
roofing  their  huts. 

The  cold  climate  and  sterile  soil  of  the  Puna  are  formidable 
impediments  to  agriculture.  Only  one  plant  is  cultivated  in 
these  regions  with  any  degree  of  success.  It  is  the  maca,  a 
tuberous  root  grown  like  the  potatoe,  and  like  it  used  as  an  arti- 
cle of  food.  In  many  of  the  Puna  districts  the  maca  constitutes 
the  principal  sustenance  of  the  inhabitants.  It  has  an  agreeable, 
and  somewhat  sweetish  flavor,  and  when  boiled  in  milk  it  tastes 
like  the  chestnut.  As  far  as  I  am  aware  this  plant  has  not  been 
mentioned  by  any  traveller,  nor  has  its  botanical  character  yet 
been  precisely  determined.  Possibly  it  is  a  species  of  Tropse- 
olum,  but  of  this  I  am  uncertain.  The  root  is  about  the  size  of 
a  large  chestnut.  Macas  may  be  kept  for  more  than  a  year,  if, 
after  being  taken  from  the  earth,  they  are  left  a  few  days  to 
dry  in  the  sun,  and  then  exposed  to  the  cold.  By  this  means 
they  become  shrivelled  and  very  hard.  From  these  dried  macas, 
the  Indians  prepare  a  sort  of  soup  or  rather  syrup,  which  dif- 
fuses a  sweet,  sickly  sort  of  odor,  but  which,  when  eaten  with 
roasted  maize,  is  not  altogether  unpalatable.  The  maca  thrives 
best  at  the  height  of  between  12,000  and  13,000  feet  above  the 
sea.  In  the  lower  districts  it  is  not  planted,  for  the  Indians  de- 
clare it  to  be  flavorless  when  grown  there.  Besides  the  maca, 
barley  is  reared  in  the  Puna.  I  saw  there  fields  of  barley 
13,200  feet  above  the  sea.  It  does  not,  however,  attain  full 
maturity,  seldom  even  shoots  into  ears,  and  is  cut  whilst  green  as 
fodder  for  horses. 

But  poor  and  scanty  as  is  the  vegetation  of  the  Puna,  the  ani- 
mal kingdom  is  there  richly  and  beautifully  represented.  Those 
regions  are  the  native  home  of  the  great  Mammalia,  which  Peru 
possessed  before  horses  and  black  cattle  were  introduced  by  the 

Indians  as  a  medicine.  It  is  one  of  their  favorite  remedies  against  spitting 
of  blood  and  dysentery.  Most  of  the  Ratanhia  exported  to  Europe  is  ob- 
tained in  the  southern  provinces  of  Peru,  particularly  in  Arica  and  May. 
The  extract  which  is  prepared  in  Peru,  and  which  was  formerly  sent  in 
large  quantities  to  Europe,  is  now  scarcely  an  object  of  traffic.  For  seve- 
ral years  past  no  Ratanhia  has  been  shipped  from  Callao,  and  but  very  little 
from  Truxillo. 


THE  LLAMA.  215 


Spaniards.  I  allude  to  the  llama  and  his  co-genera  the  alpaco, 
the  huanacu,  and  the  vicuna.  On  these  interesting  animals  I 
will  subjoin  a  few  observations.*  The  two  first  are  kept  as  do- 
mestic animals ;  the  llama  perfectly,  and  the  alpaco  partially 
tame. 

The  llama  measures  from  the  sole  of  the  hoof  to  the  top  of  the 
head,  4  feet  6  to  8  inches  ;  from  the  sole  of  the  hoof  to  the  shoul- 
ders, from  2  feet  11  inches  to  3  feet.  The  female  is  usually 
smaller  and  less  strong  than  the  male,  but  her  wool  is  finer  and 
better.  The  color  is  very  various;  generally  brown,  with 
shades  of  yellow  or  black  ;  frequently  speckled,  but  very  rarely 
quite  white  or  black.  The  speckled  brown  llama  is  in  some  dis- 
tricts called  the  moromoro. 

The  young  llamas  are  left  with  the  dam  for  about  the  space 
of  a  year,  after  which  time  they  are  removed  and  placed  with 
flocks.  When  about  four  years  old,  the  males  and  females  are 
separated ;  the  former  are  trained  to  carry  burthens,  and  the 
latter  are  kept  in  the  pastures  of  the  level  heights.  Most  of  the 
flocks  of  llamas  are  reared  in  the  southern  Puna  provinces,  viz. : 
— Cuzco  and  Ayacucho,  and  from  thence  they  are  sent  to  the 
silver  mines  of  North  Peru.  The  price  of  a  strong  full-grown 
llama  is  from  three  to  four  dollars  ;  but  if  purchased  in  flocks  in 
the  provinces  above  named,  they  may  be  had  for  one  and  a  half 
or  two  dollars  each.  Shortly  after  the  conquest  the  price  of  one 
of  these  animals  was  between  eighteen  and  twenty  ducats  ;  but 
the  increase  of  horses,  mules,  and  sheep,  lowered  their  value. 
The  burthen  'carried  by  the  llama  should  not  exceed  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  pounds,  and  the  animal  is  seldom  laden  with 
more  than  a  hundred- weight.  When  the  llama  finds  his  burthen 
too  heavy  he  lies  down,  and  cannot  be  made  to  rise  until  some 
portion  of  the  weight  is  removed  from  his  back.  In  the  silver 
mines  the  llamas  are  of  the  most  important  utility,  as  they  fre- 
quently carry  the  metal  from  the  mines  in  places  where  the  de- 


*  More  lengthened  information  respecting  them  may  be  found  in  the 
"  Fauna  Peruana."  I  have  there  noted  all  their  specific  varieties,  and 
have  corrected  the  erroneous  accounts  given  of  them  by  some  previous 
travellers. 


216  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

clivities  are  so  steep  that  neither  asses  nor  mules  can  keep  their 
footing. 

The  Indians  frequently  proceed  with  large  flocks  of  llamas  to 
the  coast,  to  procure  salt.  Their  daily  journeys  are  short,  never 
exceeding  three  or  four  leagues  ;  for  the  animals  will  not  feed 
during  the  night,  and  therefore  they  are  allowed  to  graze  as 
they  go,  or  to  halt  for  a  few  hours  at  feeding-time.  When  rest- 
ing they  make  a  peculiar  humming  noise,  which,  when  proceed- 
ing from  a  numerous  flock  at  a  distance,  is  like  a  number  of 
^Eolian  harps  sounding  in  concert. 

A  flock  of  laden  llamas  journeying  over  the  table-lands  is  a 
beautiful  sight.  They  proceed  at  a  slow  and  measured  pace, 
gazing  eagerly  around  on  every  side.  When  any  strange  object 
scares  them,  the  flock  separates,  and  disperses  in  various  direc- 
tions, and  the  arrieros  have  no  little  difficulty  in  reassembling 
them.  The  Indians  are  very  fond  of  these  animals.  They 
adorn  them  by  tying  bows  of  ribbon  to  their  ears,  and  hanging 
bells  round  their  necks  ;  and  before  loading,  they  always  fondle 
and  caress  them  affectionately.  If,  during  a  journey,  one  of  the 
llamas  is  fatigued  and  lies  down,  the  arriero  kneels  beside  the 
animal,  and  addresses  to  it  the  most  coaxing  and  endearing  ex- 
pressions. But  notwithstanding  all  the  care  and  attention  be- 
stowed on  them,  many  llamas  perish  on  every  journey  to  the 
coast,  as  they  are  not  able  to  bear  the  warm  climate. 

Some  old  travellers  have  stated  that  the  Indians  employ  the 
llama  for  riding  and  for  draught ;  but  these  accounts  are  quite 
erroneous.  It  sometimes  happens  that  when  crossing  a  river  an 
Indian  lad,  to  avoid  getting  wet,  may  mount  on  the  back  of  one 
of  the  llamas  ;  but  in  such  a  case,  he  immediately  dismounts  on 
reaching  the  opposite  bank.  The  flesh  of  the  llama  is  spongy, 
and  not  agreeable  in  flavor.  Its  wool  is  used  for  making  coarse 
cloths. 

The  alpaco,  or  paco,  is  smaller  than  the  llama.  It  measures 
from  the  lower  part  of  the  hoof  to  the  top  of  the  head  only  three 
feet  three  inches,  and  to  the  shoulders  two  feet  and  a  half.  In 
form  it  resembles  the  sheep,  but  it  has  a  longer  neck  and  a  more 
elegant  head.  The  fleece  of  this  animal  is  beautifully  soft  and 
very  long  ;  in  some  parts  it  is  four  or  five  inches  in  length.  Its 


THE  HUANACU.  217 


color  is  usually  either  white  or  black ;  but  in  some  few  instances 
it  is  speckled.  The  Indians  make  blankets  and  ponchos  of  the 
alpaco  wool.  It  is  also  frequently  exported  to  Europe,  and  it 
sells  at  a  good  price  in  England.  The  alpacos  are  kept  in  large 
flocks,  and  throughout  the  whole  of  the  year  they  graze  on  the 
level  heights.  At  shearing  time  only  they  are  driven  to  the  huts. 
They  are  in  consequence  very  shy,  and  they  run  away  at  the 
approach  of  a  stranger.  The  obstinacy  of  the  alpaco  is  remark- 
able. When  one  of  these  animals  is  separated  from  the  flock, 
he  throws  himself  on  the  ground,  and  neither  force  nor  per- 
suasion will  induce  him  to  rise  ; — sometimes  suffering  the 
severest  punishment  rather  than  go  the  way  the  driver  wishes. 
Few  animals  seem  to  require  so  imperatively  the  companionship 
of  its  own  species,  and  it  is  only  when  brought  to  the  Indian 
huts  very  young,  that  the  alpacos  can  be  separated  from  their 
flocks. 

The  largest  animal  of  this  family  is  the  huanacu.  It  mea- 
sures five  feet  from  the  bottom  of  the  hoof  to  the  top  of  the  head, 
and  three  feet  three  inches  to  the  shoulders.  In  form  it  so  nearly 
resembles  the  llama,  that  until  a  very  recent  period,  zoologists 
were  of  opinion  that  the  llama  was  an  improved  species  of  the 
huanacu,  and  that  the  latter  was  the  llama  in  its  wild  state.  In 
the  "  Fauna  Peruana "  I  have  explained  the  erroneousness  of 
this  opinion,  and  described  the  specific  differences  existing  be- 
tween the  two  animals.  On  the  neck,  back,  and  thighs  the 
huanacu  is  of  a  uniform  reddish-brown  color.  The  under  part 
of  the  body,  the  middle  line  of  the  breast,  and  the  inner  side  of 
the  limbs  are  of  a  dingy  white.  The  face  is  dark  grey,  and  the 
lips  of  a  clear  white.  Of  the  huanacus  there  are  not  those  vari- 
eties which  are  found  among  the  llamas  and  the  alpacos.  The 
wool  is  shorter  and  coarser  than  that  of  the  llama,  and  it  is  of 
nearly  uniform  length  on  all  parts  of  the  body. 

The  huanacus  live  in  small  herds  of  five  or  seven,  seldom  ex- 
ceeding the  latter  number.  In  some  districts  they  are  very  shy, 
and  retreat  when  any  one  approaches.  If  taken  very  young 
they  may  be  tamed  ;  but  they  are  always  ready  to  fall  back  into 
their  wild  state.  It  is  with  great  difficulty  they  can  be  trained 

11 


218  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


as  beasts  of  burthen.  In  the  menageries  of  Europe,  huanacus 
brought  from  Chile  are  frequently  represented  to  be  llamas. 

The  vicuna  is  a  more  beautiful  animal  than  any  of  those  just 
described.  Its  size  is  between  that  of  the  llama  and  the  alpaco. 
ft  measures  from  the  sole  of  the  foot  to  the  top  of  the  head  four 
feet  one  inch,  and  two  and  a  half  feet  to  the  shoulders.  The 
neck  is  longer  and  more  slender  than  in  either  of  the  other  rela- 
tive species  ;  and  from  them  the  vicuna  is  also  distinguished  by 
the  superior  fineness  of  its  short,  curly  wool.  The  crown  of  the 
head,  the  upper  part  of  the  neck,  the  back,  and  thighs,  are  of  a 
peculiar  reddish-yellow  hue,  called  by  the  people  of  the  country 
color  de  vicuna.  The  lower  part  of  the  neck,  and  the  inner  parts 
of  the  limbs,  are  of  a  bright  ochre  color,  and  the  breast  and 
lower  part  of  the  body  are  white. 

During  the  rainy  season  the  vicuna  inhabits  the  ridges  of  the 
Cordillera,  where  some  scanty  vegetation  is  to  be  found.  It 
never  ventures  up  to  the  naked  rocky  summits,  for  its  hoofs 
being  accustomed  only  to  turfy  ground,  are  very  soft  and  tender. 
It  lives  in  herds,  consisting  of  from  six  to  fifteen  females,  and  one 
male,  who  is  the  protector  and  leader  of  the  herd.  Whilst  the 
females  are  quietly  grazing,  the  male  stands  at  the  distance  of 
some  paces  apart,  and  carefully  keeps  guard  over  them.  At  the 
approach  of  danger  he  gives  a  signal,  consisting  of  a  sort  of 
whistling  sound,  and  a  quick  movement  of  the  foot.  Immedi- 
ately the  herd  draws  closely  together,  each  animal  anxiously 
stretching  out  its  head  in  the  direction  of  the  threatening  danger. 
They  then  take  to  flight ;  first  moving  leisurely  and  cautiously,  and 
then  quickening  their  pace  to  the  utmost  degree  of  speed;  whilst 
the  male  vicuna  who  covers  the  retreat  frequently  halts,  to  ob- 
serve the  movements  of  the  enemy.  The  females,  with  singular 
fidelity  and  affection,  reward  the  watchful  care  of  their  pro- 
tector. If  he  is  wounded  or  killed,  they  gather  round  him  in  a 
circle,  uttering  their  shrill  tones  of  lamentation,  and  they  will 
suffer  themselves  to  be  captured  or  killed,  rather  than  desert  him 
by  pursuing  their  flight.  The  neigh  of  the  vicuna,  like  that  of 
the  other  animals  of  its  class,  resembles  a  short,  sharp  whistle. 
But  when  the  shrill  sound  vibrates  through  the  pure  Puna  air, 


THE  CHACU  AND  THE  BOLAS.  219 


the  practised  ear  can   readily  distinguish  the  cry  of  the  vicuna 
from  that  of  the  other  animals  of  the  same  family. 

The  Indians  seldom  employ  fire-arms  in  hunting  the  vicunas. 
They  catch  them  by  what  they  term  the  chacu.  In  this  curious 
hunt,  one  man  at  least  belonging  to  each  family  in  the  Puna 
villages  takes  a  part,  and  women  accompany  the  train,  to  offici- 
ate as  cooks  to  the  hunters.  The  whole  company,  frequently 
amounting  to  seventy  or  eighty  individuals,  proceeds  to  the  Altos 
(the  most  secluded  parts  of  the  Puna),  which  are  the  haunts  of 
the  vicunas.  They  take  with  them  stakes,  and  a  great  quantity 
of  rope  and  cord.  A  spacious  open  plain  is  selected,  and  the 
stakes  are  driven  into  the  ground  in  a  circle,  at  intervals  of  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  feet  apart,  and  are  connected  together  by  ropes 
fastened  to  them  at  the  height  of  two  or  two  and  a  half  feet  from 
the  ground.  The  circular  space  within  the  stakes  is  about  half 
a  league  in  circumference,  and  an  opening  of  about  two  hundred 
paces  in  width  is  left  for  entrance.  On  the  ropes  by  which  the 
stakes  are  fastened  together  the  women  hang  pieces  of  colored 
rags,  which  flutter  about  in  the  wind.  The  chacu  being  fully 
prepared,  the  men,  some  of  whom  are  mounted  on  horseback, 
range  about  within  a  circuit  of  several  miles,  driving  before 
them  all  the  herds  of  vicunas  they  meet  with,  and  forcing  them 
into  the  chacu.  When  a  sufficient  number  of  vicunas  is  col- 
lected, the  entrance  is  closed.  The  timid  animals  do  not  attempt 
to  leap  over  the  ropes,  being  frightened  by  the  fluttering  rags 
suspended  from  them,  and,  when  thus  secured,  the  Indians  easily 
kill  them  by  the  bolas.  These  bolas  consist  of  three  balls,  com- 
posed either  of  lead  or  stone ;  two  of  them  heavy,  and  the  third 
rather  lighter.  They  are  fastened  to  long,  elastic  strings,  made 
of  twisted  sinews  of  the  vicuna,  and  the  opposite  ends  of  the 
strings  are  all  tied  together.  The  Indian  holds  the  lightest 
of  the  three  balls  in  his  hand,  and  swings  the  two  others  in  a 
wide  circle  above  his  head  ;  then,  taking  his  aim  at  the  distance 
of  about  fifteen  or  twenty  paces,  he  lets  go  the  hand-ball,  upon 
which  all  the  three  balls  whirl  in  a  circle,  and  twine  round  the 
object  aimed  at.  The  aim  is  usually  taken  at  the  hind  legs  of 
the  animals,  and  the  cords  twisting  round  them,  they  become 
firmly  bound.  It  requires  great  skill  and  long  practice  to  throw 


220  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  bolas  dexterously,  especially  when  on  horseback :  a  novice 
in  the  art  incurs  the  risk  of  dangerously  hurting  either  himself 
or  his  horse,  by  not  giving  the  balls  the  proper  swing,  or  by 
letting  go  the  hand-ball  too  soon. 

The  vicunas,  after  being  secured  by  the  bolas,  are  killed,  and 
the  flesh  is  distributed  in  equal  portions  among  the  hunters. 
The  skins  belong  to  the  Church.  The  price  of  a  vicuna  skin  is 
four  reals.  When  all  the  animals  are  killed,  the  stakes,  ropes, 
&c.,  are  packed  up  carefully,  and  conveyed  to  another  spot, 
some  miles  distant,  where  the  chacu  is  again  fixed  up.  The 
hunting  is  continued  in  this  manner  for  the  space  of  a  week. 
The  number  of  animals  killed  during  that  interval  varies  accord- 
ing to  circumstances,  being  sometimes  fifty  or  sixty,  and  at  other 
times  several  hundred.  During  five  days  I  took  part  in  a  chacu 
hunt  in  the  Altos  of  Huayhuay,  and  in  that  space  of  time  122 
vicunas  were  caught.  With  the  money  obtained  by  the  sale  of 
the  skins  a  new  altar  was  erected  in  the  church  of  the  district. 
The  flesh  of  the  vicuna  is  more  tender  and  better  flavored  than 
that  of  the  llama.  Fine  cloth  and  hats  are  made  of  the  wool. 
When  taken  young,  the  vicunas  are  easily  tamed,  and  become 
very  docile ;  but  when  old,  they  are  intractable  and  malicious. 
At  Tarma  I  possessed  a  large  and  very  fine  vicuna.  It  used  to 
follow  me  like  a  dog  whenever  I  went  out,  whether  on  foot  or 
on  horseback. 

The  frequent  hunting  seems  not  to  have  the  effect  of  diminish- 
ing the  numbers  of  these  animals.  If  in  the  vicinity  of  the  vil- 
lages where  chacus  are  frequently  established,  they  are  less 
numerous  than  in  other  parts,  it  is  because,  to  elude  the  pursuit 
of  the  hunters,  they  seek  refuge  in  the  Altos,  where  they  are 
found  in  vast  numbers.  Several  modern  travellers  have  lamented 
the  diminution  of  the  vicunas,  but  without  reason.  In  former 
times  those  animals  were  hunted  more  actively  than  at  present. 

Under  the  dynasty  of  the  Incas,  when  every  useful  plant  and 
animal  was  an  object  of  veneration,  the  Peruvians  rendered 
almost  divine  worship  to  the  llama  and  his  relatives,  which  ex- 
clusively furnished  them  with  wool  for  clothing,  and  with  flesh 
for  food.  The  temples  were  adorned  with  large  figures  of  these 
animals  made  of  gold  and  silver,  and  their  forms  were  repre- 


ANIMALS  OF  THE  PUNA.  221 

sented  in  domestic  utensils  made  of  stone  and  clay.  In  the 
valuable  collection  of  Baron  Clemens  von  Hugel  at  Vienna,  there 
are  four  of  these  vessels,  composed  of  porphyry,  basalt,  and 
granite,  representing  the  four  species,  viz.,  the  llama,  the  alpaco, 
the  huanacu,  and  the  vicuna.  These  antiquities  are  exceedingly 
scarce,  and  when  I  was  in  Peru  I  was  unable  to  obtain  any  of 
them.  How  the  ancient  Peruvians,  without  the  aid  of  iron  tools, 
were  able  to  carve  stone  so  beautifully,  is  inconceivable. 

Besides  the  animals  above  mentioned,  several  others  peculiar 
to  the  Puna  are  deserving  of  remark.  Among  these  are  the 
Tarush  (Cervus  antisiensis,  Orb.)  ;  the  timid  roe,  which  inhabits 
the  high  forests  skirting  the  Andes ;  the  Viscacha  (Lagidium  peru- 
cmum,  May,  and  L.  palttpes,  Benn.),  and  the  Chinchilla  (Eriomys 
Chinchilla,  Licht.),  whose  skin  supplies  the  beautiful  fur  so  much 
prized  by  the  ladies  of  Europe.  The  viscachas  and  chinchillas 
resemble  the  rabbit  in  form  and  color,  but  they  have  shorter  ears 
and  long  rough  tails.  They  live  on  the  steep  rocky  mountains, 
and  in  the  morning  and  evening  they  creep  out  from  their  holes 
and  crevices  to  nibble  the  alpine  grasses.  At  night  the  Indians 
set  before  their  holes  traps  made  of  horse-hair,  in  which  the  ani- 
mals are  easily  caught.  The  most  remarkable  of  the  beasts  of 
prey  in  these  high  regions  is  the  Atoc  (Canis  Azara,  Pr.  Max.). 
It  is  a  species  of  fox,  which  is  found  throughout  the  whole  of  South 
America.  The  warmer  Puna  valleys  are  inhabited  by  the  Cu- 
guar  (Felis  concolor,  L.),  or,  as  the  Indians  call  it,  the  Poma. 
When  driven  -by  hunger,  this  animal  ventures  into  the  loftiest 
Puna  regions,  even  to  the  boundary  of  the  eternal  snow.  The 
wild  Hucumari  (Ursus  ornatus,  Fr.  Cuv.)  but  seldom  wanders 
into  the  cold  Puna.  The  hucumari  is  a  large  black  bear,  with 
a  white  muzzle  and  light-colored  stripes  on  the  breast. 

Of  the  numerous  Puna  birds,  the  majority  of  which  may  be 
classed  as  water-fowl,  I  will  notice  only  a  few  of  the  most  cha- 
racteristic. Next  to  the  condor,  the  most  remarkable  bird  of 
prey  is  the  Huarahuau,  orthe  Aloi  (Polylorus  megalopterus,  Cob.),* 
one  of  the  gyr-falcon  species.  This  bird,  which  is  a  constant 
inhabitant  of  the  level  heights,  preys  on  the  carcases  of  dead 

*  Phalcoboenus  montanus,  Orb. 


222  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


horses,  mules,  &c.,  but  never  attempts  to  meddle  with  living 
animals.  It  is  very  harmless,  and  has  so  little  timidity,  that  it 
suffers  itself  to  be  approached  near  enough  to  be  knocked  down 
with  a  stick.  The  Acacli,  or  Pito  (Colaptes  rupicola,  Orb.), 
flutters  about  the  mountains  ;  it  is  a  woodpecker,  brown-speckled, 
with  a  yellow  belly.  This  bird  is  seen  in  very  great  numbers, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  how  it  procures  food  in  the  Puna, 
where  there  are  no  insects.  All  the  other  woodpecker  species 
exclusively  confine  themselves  to  woody  regions. 

The  thickets  of  rushy  grass  are  inhabited  by  the  Pishacas,  or 
Yutu,  a  species  of  partridge  (Tinamotis  Penilandii,  Vig.)  which 
the  Indians  catch  by  dogs.  These  dogs  of  the  Puna  Indians  are 
a  peculiar  race  (Canis  Inga,  Tsch.).  They  are  distinguished 
by  a  small  head,  a  pointed  muzzle,  small  erect  ears,  a  tail  curl- 
ing upwards,  and  a  thick  shaggy  skin.  They  are  in  a  half- 
wild  state,  and  very  surly  and  snappish.  They  furiously  attack 
strangers,  and  even  after  having  received  a  deadly  wound  they 
will  crawl  along  the  ground,  and  make  an  effort  to  bite.  To 
white  people  they  appear  to  have  a  particular  antipathy ;  and 
sometimes  it  becomes  rather  a  venturous  undertaking  for  a  Eu- 
ropean traveller  to  approach  an  Indian  hut,  for  these  mountain 
dogs  spring  up  to  the  sides  of  the  horse,  and  try  to  bite  the 
rider's  legs.  They  are  snarlish  and  intractable  even  to  their 
masters,  who  are  often  obliged  to  enforce  obedience  by  the  help 
of  a  stick.  Yet  these  dogs  are  very  useful  animals  for  guarding 
flocks,  and  they  have  a  keen  sent  for  the  pishacas,  which  they 
catch  and  kill  with  a  single  bite. 

There  is  a  very  curious  little  bird  in  the  Puna,  about  the  size 
of  a  starling.  Its  plumage  is  exceedingly  pretty,  being  on  the 
back  brown,  striped  with  black ;  on  the  throat  grey,  with  two 
dark  stripes,  and  on  the  breast  white.  This  bird  has  the  re- 
markable peculiarity  of  making  a  monotonous  sound  at  the  close 
of  every  hour,  during  the  night.  The  Indians  call  it  the  Inga- 
huallpa,  or  Cock  of  the  Inga  ( Thinocorus  Ingce,  Tsch.),  and  they 
associate  many  superstitious  notions  with  its  regular  hourly  cry. 
The  Puna  morasses  and  lagunas  are  animated  by  numerous 
feathered  inhabitants.  Among  them  is  the  huachua  (Chloephaga 
melanoptera,  Eyt.),  a  species  of  goose.  The  plumage  of  the  body 


CATTLE  AND  PASTURAGE.  223 

is  dazzlingly  white,  the  wings  green,  shading  into  brilliant  violet, 
and  the  feet  and  beak  of  a  bright  red.  The  Licli  (Charadrius 
resplendens,  Tsch.)  is  a  plover,  whose  plumage  in  color  is  like 
that  of  the  huachua,  but  with  a  sort  of  metallic  brightness. 
There  are  two  species  of  ibis  which  belong  to  the  Puna,  though 
they  are  occasionally  seen  in  some  of  the  lower  valleys.  One 
is  the  Bandurria  (Theristocus  melanopis,  Wagl.),  and  the  other  is 
the  Yanahuico  (Ibis  Ordi,  Bonap.).  On  the  lagunas  swim 
large  flocks  of  Quiullas  (Larus  serranus,  Tsch.),  white  mews, 
with  black  heads  and  red  beaks,  and  the  gigantic  water-hen 
(Fulica  gigantea,  Soul.).  The  plumage  of  the  latter  is  dark- 
grey,  and  at  the  root  of  the  red  beak  there  is  a  large  yellow 
botch,  in  the  form  of  a  bean,  whence  the  Indians  give  this  bird 
the  name  of  Anash  sinqui,  or  bean  nose.  Among  the  few  am- 
phibia found  in  these  regions  one  is  particularly  remarkable. 
It  is  a  small  kind  of  toad  (Leiuperus  viridis,  Tsch.),  and  inhabits 
the  boundaries  of  the  perpetual  snow. 

The  grasses  of  the  Puna  are  used  as  fodder,  and  in  many  of 
the  sheltered  valleys  there  are  farms  (Haciendas  de  Ganado}, 
where  large  herds  of  cattle  are  reared.  The  owners  of  some  of 
these  farms  possess  several  thousand  sheep,  and  from  four  to  five 
hundred  cows.  During  the  rainy  season  the  cattle  are  driven 
into  the  Altos.  They  graze  in  those  high  regions,  often  at  the 
altitude  of  15,000  feet  above  the  sea.  When  the  frost  sets  in 
they  are  brought  down  to  the  marshy  valleys,  and  they  suffer 
much  from  insufficiency  of  pasture.  From  the  wool  of  the 
sheep  a  coarse  kind  of  cloth,  called  Bayeta,  is  made  in  the  Sierra. 
Some  of  this  wool  is  exported,  and  is  much  prized  in  Europe. 
The  old  black  cattle  and  sheep  are  slaughtered,  and  their  flesh, 
when  dried,  is  the  principal  food  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Puna, 
particularly  of  the  mining  population.  The  dried  beef  is  called 
Charqui,  and  the  mutton  is  called  Chalona.  The  bulls  graze  in 
the  remote  Altos,  and  most  of  them  are  reserved  for  the  bull 
fights  in  the  Sierra  villages.  As  they  seldom  see  a  human  being 
they  become  exceedingly  wild  ;  so  much  so  that  the  herdsmen 
are  often  afraid  to  approach  them.  In  the  daytime  they  roam 
about  marshy  places,  and  at  nightfall  they  retire  for  shelter  be- 
neath some  overhanging  rock.  These  animals  render  travelling 


224  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


in  many  parts  of  the  Puna  extremely  dangerous,  for  they  often 
attack  people  so  suddenly  as  to  afford  no  time  for  defence.  It  is 
true  they  usually  announce  their  approach  by  a  deep  bellow  ; 
but  the  open  plain  seldom  presents  any  opportunity  for  escape. 
On  several  occasions  a  well-aimed  shot  alone  saved  me  from 
the  attack  of  one  of  these  ferocious  bulls. 

The  walls  of  the  haciendas  are  of  rough  unhewn  stone.  They 
are  divided  into  large  square  rooms,  always  damp,  cold,  and  un- 
inhabitable. Beneath  the  straw  roofs  there  usually  hang  long 
rows  of  the  stuffed  skins  of  foxes ;  for  every  Indian  who  kills 
an  old  fox  receives,  by  way  of  reward,  a  sheep,  and  for  a  young 
one  a  lamb.  The  Cholos  are  therefore  zealous  fox-hunters,  and 
they  may  possibly  succeed  in  altogether  extirpating  that  animal, 
which  in  some  districts  is  so  numerous  as  to  be  a  perfect  scourge. 

As  the  sheep,  even  in  the  dry  season,  find  pasture  more  easily 
than  the  horned  cattle,  they  are  left  during  the  whole  year  in 
the  higher  parts  of  the  Puna,  under  the  care  of  Indian  shepherds. 
At  night  they  are  driven  into  corales,  large  square  roofless  build- 
ings, and  are  guarded  by  dogs.  The  shepherds  make  a  practice 
of  every  year  burning  the  dry  grass  of  the  Puna,  in  order  to 
improve  the  growth  of  the  fodder.  A  Puna  fire  does  not,  how- 
ever, present  the  imposing  spectacle  of  the  prairie  fires,  as  de- 
scribed by  travellers  in  North  America,  possibly  because  the  Puna 
straw  is  shorter,  and  is  always  somewhat  damp. 

The  dwellings  of  the  shepherds  are  built  in  the  same  rude 
style  which  characterizes  all  the  huts  in  the  Puna,  and  they  im- 
press the  European  traveller  with  a  very  unfavorable  notion  of 
the  intelligence  of  the  people.  The  architecture  of  these  huts 
consists  in  laying  down  some  large  stones,  in  a  circle  of  about 
eight  or  ten  feet  in  diameter,  by  way  of  a  foundation.  These 
stones  are  covered  with  earth  or  turf,  and  then  with  successive 
layers  of  stones  and  earth,  until  the  wall  attains  the  height  of 
about  four  feet :  at  the  point  most  sheltered  from  the  wind,  an 
opening  of  a  foot  and  a  half  or  two  feet  high  serves  as  a  door. 
On  this  low  circular  wall  rests  the  roof,  which  is  formed  in  the 
following  manner.  Six  or  eight  magay*  poles  are  fastened  to- 

*  The  Magay  is  the  stem  of  the  American  Agave.    It  has  a  sort  of  spungy 


PUNA  HUTS. 


gethe-,  so  as  to  form  a  point  at  the  top.  Over  these  poles  thin 
laths  are  laid  horizontally,  and  fastened  with  straw-bands,  and 
the  whole  conical-formed  frame-work  is  overlaid  with  a  covering 
of  Puna  straw.  As  a  security  against  the  wind,  two  thick  straw- 
bands  are  crossed  over  the  point  of  the  roof,  and  at  their  ends, 
which  hang  down  to  the  ground,  heavy  stones  are  fastened.  The 
whole  fabric  is  then  completed.  The  hut  at  its  central  point  is 
about  eight  feet  high ;  but  at  the  sides,  no  more  than  three  and  a 
half  or  four  feet.  The  entrance  is  so  low,  that  one  is  obliged  to 
creep  in  almost  bent  double  ;  and  before  the  aperture  hangs  a 
cow-hide,  by  way  of  a  door. 

Internally  these  huts  present  miserable  pictures  of  poverty 
and  uncleanliness.  Two  stones  serve  as  a  stove,  containing  a 
scanty  fire  fed  by  dry  dung  (bunegas),  and  turf  (champo).  An 
earthen  pot  for  cooking  soup,  another  for  roasting  maize,  two  or 
three  gourd-shells  for  plates,  and  a  porongo  for  containing  water, 
make  up  the  catalogue  of  the  goods  and  chattels  in  a  Puna  hut. 
On  dirty  sheep-skins  spread  on  the  ground,  sit  the  Indian  and  his 
wife,  listlessly  munching  their  coca  ;  whilst  the  naked  children 
roll  about  paddling  in  pools  of  water  formed  by  continual  drip- 
pings from  the  roof.  The  other  inhabitants  of  the  hut  are  usu- 
ally three  or  four  hungry  dogs,  some  lambs,  and  swarms  of 
guinea-pigs. 

From  all  this  it  will  readily  be  imagined  that  a  Puna  hut  is  no 
very  agreeable  or  inviting  retreat.  Yet,  when  worn  out  by  the 
dangers  and  fatigues  of  a  long  day's  journey,  and  exposed  to  the 
fury  of  a  mountain  storm,  the  weary  traveller,  heedless  of  suffo- 
cating clouds  of  smoke  and  mephitic  odors,  gladly  creeps  into 
the  rude  dwelling.  Taking  up  his  resting-place  on  the  damp 
floor,  with  his  saddle-cloth  for  a  pillow,  he  is  thankful  to  find 
himself  once  again  in  a  humtin  habitation,  even  though  its  occu- 
pants be  not  many  degrees  elevated  above  the  brute  creation. 

In  the  Puna  there  are  many  remains  of  the  great  high  road  of 
the  Incas,  which  led  from  Cuzco  to  Quito,  stretching  through  the 


eap  ;  but  it  is  covered  externally  with  a  strong  tough  bast.  The  Magay 
supplies  the  inhabitants  of  Upper  Peru  with  an  excellent  kind  of  light  and 
strong  building  wood. 

11* 


226  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


whole  extent  of  Peru.  It  was  the  grandest  work  that  America 
possessed  before  European  civilisation  found  its  way  to  that  quai- 
ter  of  the  world.  Even  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the 
wise  dominion  of  the  ancient  Peruvian  sovereigns,  their  compre- 
hensive laws,  and  the  high  civilisation  they  diffused  over  the 
whole  country,  must  by  this  gigantic  work  be  impressed  with  the 
highest  idea  of  the  cultivation  of  the  age  j  for  well-constructed 
roads  may  always  be  regarded  as  proofs  of  a  nation's  advance- 
ment. There  is  not  in  Peru  at  the  present  time  any  modern 
road  in  the  most  remote  degree  comparable  to  the  Incas'  high- 
way. The  best  preserved  fragments  which  came  under  my 
observation  were  in  the  Altos,  between  Jauja  and  Tarma.  Judg- 
ing from  these  portions,  it  would  appear  that  the  road  must  have 
been  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  feet  broad,  and  that  it  was  paved 
with  large  flat  stones.  At  intervals  of  about  twelve  paces  distant 
one  from  another  there  is  a  row  of  smaller  stones,  laid  horizon- 
tally and  a  little  elevated,  so  that  the  road  ascended,  as  it  were, 
by  a  succession  of  terraces.  It  was  edged  on  each  side  by  a  low 
wall  of  small  stones. 

Other  remains  of  ancient  Peru,  frequently  met  with  in  these 
parts,  are  small  buildings,  formerly  used  as  stations  for  the  mes- 
sengers who  promulgated  the  commands  of  the  Incas  through  all 
parts  of  the  country.  Some  of  these  buildings  are  still  in  a 
tolerably  good  state  of  preservation.  They  were  always  erected 
on  little  hillocks,  and  at  such  distances  apart,  that  from  each 
station  the  nearest  one  on  either  side  was  discernible.  When  a 
messenger  was  despatched  from  a  station  a  signal  was  hoisted, 
and  a  messenger  from  the  next  successive  station  met  him  half- 
way, and  received  from  him  the  despatch,  which  was  in  this 
manner  forwarded  from  one  station  to  another  till  it  reached  its 
destination.  A  constant  communication  was  thus  kept  up  be- 
tween the  capital  and  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  country.  A 
proof  of  the  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which  these  communi- 
cations were  carried  on  is  the  fact,  recorded  on  unquestionable 
authority,  that  the  royal  table  in  Cuzco  was  served  with  fresh 
fish,  caught  in  the  sea  near  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  in  Lurin,  a 
distance  of  more  than  200  leagues  from  Cuzco. 

The  messenger  stations  have  by  some  travellers  been  con- 


AN  INCA'S  RANSOM.  227 


founded  with  the  forts,  of  which  remains  are  met  with  along  the 
great  Inca  road.  The  forts  were  buildings  destined  for  totally 
different  purposes.  They  were  magazines  for  grain,  and  were 
built  by  the  Incas  to  secure  to  their  armies  in  these  barren 
regions  the  requisite  supplies  of  food.  Vestiges  of  these  forts 
are  frequently  seen  in  the  Altos  of  Southern  and  Central  Peru. 
They  are  broad  round  towers,  usually  built  against  a  rocky  de- 
clivity, and  with  numerous  long  apertures  for  the  admission  of 
air. 

Even  the  broad  level  heights  in  which  no  trace  of  human 
habitations  is  discoverable,  have  been  excavated  by  the  merce- 
nary Peruvian  mestizos  and  Creoles  in  search  of  hidden  trea- 
sures. Their  faith  in  the  existence  of  concealed  riches  is 
founded  on  the  following  tradition.  When  the  last  reigning  Inca, 
Atabiliba  or  Atahuallpa,  was  made  prisoner  by  Don  Francisco 
Pizarro,  in  Caxamarca,  he  proposed  to  ransom  himself  from  the 
Spanish  commander.  The  price  he  offered  for  his  liberty  was  to 
fill  with  gold  the  cell  in  which  he  was  confined,  to  the  height  of 
a  certain  line  on  the  wall,  which  Pizarro  marked  with  his  sword. 
The  cell,  it  may  be  mentioned,  was  twenty-two  feet  long  and 
seventeen  broad.  A  quantity  of  gold  which  the  Inca  ordered  to 
be  collected  in  Caxamarca  and  its  vicinity,  when  piled  up  on  the 
floor  of  the  cell,  did  not  reach  above  halfway  to  the  given  mark. 
The  Inca  then  despatched  messengers  to  Cuzco  to  obtain  from 
the  royal  treasury  the  gold  required  to  make  up  the  deficiency ; 
and  accordingly  eleven  thousand  llamas  were  despatched  from 
Cuzco  to  Caxamarca,  each  laden  with  one  hundred  pounds  of 
gold.  But  ere  the  treasure  reached  its  destination,  Atahuallpa 
was  hanged  by  the  advice  of  Don  Diego  de  Almangra  and  the 
Dominican  monk  Vicente  de  Valve rde.  The  terror-stirring  news 
flew  like  wild-fire  through  the  land,  and  speedily  reached  the 
convoy  of  Indians,  who  were  driving  their  richly-laden  llamas 
over  the  level  heights  into  Central  Peru.  On  the  spot  where  the 
intelligence  of  Atahuallpa's  death  was  communicated  to  them, 
the  dismayed  Indians  concealed  the  treasure,  and  then  dispersed. 

Whether  the  number  of  the  llamas  was  really  so  considerable 
as  it  is  stated  to  have  been,  may  fairly  be  doubted  ;  but  that  a 
vast  quantity  of  gold  was  on  its  way  to  Caxamarca,  and  was  con 


228  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


cealed,  is  a  well-authenticated  fact.  That  the  Indians  should 
never  have  made  any  attempt  to  recover  this  treasure  is  quite 
consistent  with  their  character.  It  is  not  improbable  that  even 
now  some  particular  individuals  among  them  may  know  the 
place  of  concealment ;  but  a  certain  feeling  of  awe  transmitted 
through  several  centuries  from  father  to  son,  has,  in  their  minds, 
associated  the  hidden  treasure  with  the  blood  of  their  last  king, 
and  this  feeling  doubtless  prompts  them  to  keep  the  secret 
inviolate. 

From  traditionary  accounts,  which  bear  the  appearance  of 
probability,  it  would  appear  that  the  gold  was  buried  somewhere 
in  the  Altos  of  Mito,  near  the  valley  of  Jauja.  Searches  have 
frequently  been  made  in  that  vicinity,  but  no  clue  to  the  hiding- 
place  has  yet  been  discovered. 


CERRO  DE  PASCO.  229 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Cerro  de  Pasco — First  discovery  of  the  Mines — Careless  mode  of  working 
them — Mine  Owners  and  Mine  Laborers — Amalgamating  and  Refining — 
Produce  of  the  Mines — Life  in  Cerro  de  Pasco — Different  Classes  of  the 
Population — Gaming  and  Drunkenness — Extravagance  and  Improvidence 
of  the  Indian  Mine  Laborers — The  Cerro  de  San  Fernando — Other  Im- 
portant Mining  Districts  in  Peru — The  Salcedo  Mine — Castrovireyna — 
Vast  Productiveness  of  the  Silver  Mines  of  Peru — Rich  Mines  secretly 
known  to  the  Indians — Roads  leading  from  Cerro  de  Pasco — The  Laguna 
of  Chinchaycocha — Battle  of  Junin — Indian  Robbers — A  Day  and  a  Night 
in  the  Puna  Wilds. 

HAVING  traversed  the  long  and  difficult  route  from  the  capital 
of  Peru,  by  way  of  the  wild  Cordillera  to  the  level  heights  of 
Bombon,  and  from  thence  having  ascended  the  steep  winding  ac- 
clivities of  the  mountain  chain  of  Olachin,  the  traveller  suddenly 
beholds  in  the  distance  a  large  and  populous  city.  This  is  the 
celebrated  Cerro  de  Pasco,  famed  throughout  the  world  for  its 
rich  silver  mines.  It  is  situated  in  10°  48/  S.  latitude  and  76° 
23'  W.  longitude,  and  at  the  height  of  13,673  feet  above  the  sea 
level.  It  is  built  in  a  basin-shaped  hollow,  encircled  by  barren 
and  precipitous  rocks.  Between  these  rocks  difficult  winding 
roads  or  paths  lead  down  to  the  city,  which  spreads  out  in  irre- 
gular divisions,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  little  lagunes,  or 
swamps.  The  pleasing  impression  created  by  the  first  view  of 
Cerro  de  Pasco  from  the  heights  is  very  greatly  modified  on  en- 
tering the  town.  Crooked,  narrow,  and  dirty  streets  are  bordered 
by  rows  of  irregularly-built  houses  ;  and  miserable  Indian  huts 
abut  close  against  well-built  dwellings,  whose  size  and  structure 
give  a  certain  European  character  to  the  city  when  viewed  from 
a  distance.  Without  bestowing  a  glance  on  the  busy  throng 
which  circulates  through  the  streets  and  squares,  the  varied 
styles  of  the  buildings  sufficiently  indicate  to  the  observer  how 


230  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


many  different  classes  of  people  have  united  together  to  found, 
in  the  tropics,  and  on  the  very  confines  of  the  perpetual  snow,  a 
city  of  such  magnitude,  and  of  so  motley  an  aspect.  The  wild 
barrenness  of  the  surrounding  scenery,  and  the  extreme  cold  of 
the  rigorous  climate — the  remote  and  solitary  position  of  the 
city — all  denote  that  one  common  bond  of  union  must  have  drawn 
together  the  diversified  elements  which  compose  the  population 
of  Cerro  de  Pasco.  And  so  it  really  is.  In  this  inhospitable 
region,  where  the  surface  of  the  soil  produces  nothing,  nature 
has  buried  boundless  stores  of  wealth  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
and  the  silver  mines  of  Cerro  de  Pasco  have  drawn  people  from 
all  parts  of  the  world  to  one  point,  and  for  one  object. 

History  relates  that  about  two  hundred  and  fifteen  years  ago 
an  Indian  shepherd,  named  Huari  Capcha,  tended  his  flocks  on  a 
small  pampa  to  the  south-east  of  the  Lake  of  Llauricocha,  the 
mother  of  the  great  river  Amazon.  One  day,  when  the  shep- 
herd had  wandered  farther  than  usual  from  his  hut,  he  sought  a 
resting-place  on  a  declivity  of  the  Cerro  de  Santiestevan,  and 
when  evening  drew  in  he  kindled  a  fire  to  protect  himself  against 
the  cold  ;  he  then  lay  down  to  sleep.  When  he  awoke  on  the 
following  morning,  he  was  amazed  to  find  the  stone  beneath  the 
ashes  of  his  fire  melted  and  turned  to  silver.  He  joyfully  com- 
municated the  discovery  to  his  master,  Don  Jose  Ugarte,  a 
Spaniard,  who  owned  a  hacienda  in  the  Quebrada  de  Huariaca. 
Ugarte  forthwith  repaired  to  the  spot,  where  he  found  indications 
of  a  very  rich  vein  of  silver  ore,  which  he  immediately  made 
active  preparations  for  working.  In  this  mine,  which  is  distin- 
guished by  the  name  of  La  Descubridora  (the  discoverer),  silver 
is  still  obtained.  From  the  village  of  Pasco,  about  two  leagues 
distant,  where  already  productive  mines  were  worked,  several 
rich  mine  owners  removed  to  Llauricocha  ;  here  they  sought 
and  discovered  new  veins,  and  established  new  mining  works. 
The  vast  abundance  of  the  ore  drew  new  speculators  to  the 
spot ;  some  to  work  the  mines,  and  others  to  supply  the  necessary 
wants  of  the  increasing  population.  In  this  manner  was  rapidly 
founded  a  city,  which,  at  times  when  the  produce  of  metal  is 
very  considerable,  counts  18,000  inhabitants. 

In  Cerro  de  Pasco  there  are  two  very  remarkable  veins  of 


MINE  LABORERS.  231 


silver.  One  of  them,  the  Veta  de  Colquirirca,  runs  nearly  in  a 
straight  line  from  north  to  south,  and  has  already  been  traced  to 
the  length  of  9,600  feet,  and  the  breadth  of  412 ;  the  other  vein 
is  the  Veta  de  Pariarirca,  which  takes  a  direction  from  east-south- 
east to  west-north-west,  and  which  intersects  the  Veta  de  Col- 
quirirca precisely,  it  is  supposed,  under  the  market-place  of  the 
city.  Its  known  extent  is  6,400  feet  in  length,  and  380  feet  in 
breadth.  From  these  large  veins  numberless  smaller  ones  branch 
off  in  various  directions,  so  that  a  net- work  of  silver  may  be  sup- 
posed to  spread  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Some  thousand 
openings  or  mouths  (bocaminas)  are  the  entrances  to  these  mines. 
Most  of  these  entrances  are  within  the  city  itself,  in  small  houses ; 
and  some  are  in  the  dwellings  of  the  mine-owners.  Many  of 
them  are  exceedingly  shallow,  and  not  more  than  five  hundred 
deserve  the  name  of  shafts.  All  are  worked  in  a  very  disorderly 
and  careless  way ;  the  grand  object  of  their  owners  being  to 
avoid  expense.  The  dangerous  parts  in  the  shafts  are  never 
walled  up,  and  the  excavations  proceed  without  the  adoption  of 
any  measures  of  security.  The  consequence  is,  that  accidents 
caused  by  the  falling  in  of  the  galleries  are  of  frequent  occur- 
rence ;  and  every  year  the  lives  of  numbers  of  the  Indian  miners 
are  sacrificed.  A  melancholy  example  of  the  effects  of  this 
negligence  is  presented  by  the  now  ruined  mine  of  Matagente 
(literally  Kill  People),  in  which  three  hundred  laborers  were 
killed  by  the  falling  in  of  a  shaft.  I  descended  into  several  of 
the  mines,  among  others  into  the  Descubridora,  which  is  one  of 
the  deepest,  and  I  always  felt  that  I  had  good  reason  to  congratu- 
late myself  on  returning  to  the  surface  of  the  earth  in  safety. 
Rotten  blocks  of  wood  and  loose  stones  serve  for  steps,  and, 
where  these  cannot  be  placed,  the  shaft,  which  in  most  instances 
runs  nearly  perpendicular,  is  descended  by  the  help  of  rusty 
chains  and  ropes,  whilst  loose  fragments  of  rubbish  are  continually 
falling  from  the  damp  walls. 

The  mine  laborers,  all  of  whom  are  Indians,  are  of  two  classes. 
One  class  consists  of  those  who  work  in  the  mines  all  the  year 
round  without  intermission,  and  who  receive  regular  wages  from 
the  mine  owners ; — the  other  class  consists  of  those  who  make 
only  temporary  visits  to  Cerro  de  Pasco,  when  they  are  attracted 


232  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


thither  by  the  boyas.*  This  latter  class  of  laborers  are  called 
maquipuros.  Most  of  them  come  from  the  distant  provinces, 
and  they  return  to  their  homes  when  the  boya  is  at  an  end.  The 
mine  laborers  are  also  subdivided  into  two  classes,  the  one  called 
barreteros,  whose  employment  consists  in  breaking  the  ore  ;  and 
the  other  called  hapires,  or  chaquiris,  who  bring  up  the  ore  from 
the  shaft.  The  work  allotted  to  the  hapires  is  exceedingly  la- 
borious. Each  load  consists  of  from  fifty  to  seventy-five  pounds 
of  metal,  which  is  carried  in  a  very  irksome  and  inconvenient 
manner  in  an  untanned  hide,  called- a  capacho.  The  hapire  per- 
forms his  toilsome  duty  in  a  state  of  nudity,  for,  notwithstanding 
the  coldness  of  the  climate,  he  becomes  so  heated  by  his  labori- 
ous exertion,  that  he  is  glad  to  divest  himself  of  his  clothing. 
As  the  work  is  carried  on  incessantly  day  and  night,  the  miners 
are  divided  into  parties  called  puntas,  each  party  working  for 
twelve  successive  hours.  At  six  o'clock  morning  and  evening 
the  puntas  are  relieved.  Each  one  is  under  the  inspection  of  a 
mayor-domo.  When  a  mine  yields  a  scanty  supply  of  metal, 
the  laborers  are  paid  in  money  ;  the  barreteros  receiving  six 
reals  per  day,  and  the  hapires  only  four.  During  the  boyas  the 
laborers  receive  instead  of  their  wages  in  money,  a  share  of  the 
ore.  The  Indians  often  try  to  appropriate  to  themselves  surrepti- 
tiously pieces  of  ore  ;  but  to  do  this  requires  great  cunning  and 
dexterity,  so  narrowly  are  they  watched  by  the  mayor-domos. 
Nevertheless,  they  sometimes  succeed.  One  of  the  hapires  re- 
lated to  me  how  he  had  contrived  to  carry  off  a  most  valuable 
piece  of  silver.  He  fastened  it  on  his  back,  and  then  wrapping 
himself  in  his  poncho,  he  pretended  to  be  so  ill,  that  he  obtained 
permission  to  quit  the  mine.  Two  of  his  confederates  who  helped 
him  out,  assisted  him  in  concealing  the  treasure.  The  polvorilla, 
a  dark  powdery  kind  of  ore,  very  full  of  silver,  used  to  be  ab- 
stracted from  the  mines  by  the  following  stratagem.  The  work- 
men would  strip  off  their  clothes,  and  having  moistened  the  whole 

*  A  mine  is  said  to  be  in  boya  when  it  yields  an  unusually  abundant 
supply  of  metal.  Owing  to  the  great  number  of  mines  in  Cerro  de  Pasco, 
some  of  them  are  always  in  this  prolific  state.  There  are  times  when  the 
boyas  bring  such  an  influx  of  miners  to  Cerro  de  Pasco  that  the  population 
is  augmented  to  double  or  triple  its  ordinary  amount. 


AMALGAMATION  AND  REFINING.  233 

of  their  bodies  with  water,  would  roll  themselves  in  the  polvo- 
rilla  which  stuck  to  them.  On  their  return  home  they  washed 
off  the  silver-dust  and  sold  it  for  several  dollars.  But  this  trick 
being  detected,  a  stop  was  soon  put  to  it,  for,  before  leaving  the 
mines,  the  laborers  are  now  required  to  strip  in  order  to  be 
searched. 

The  operation  of  separating  the  silver  from  the  dross  is  per- 
formed at  some  distance  from  Cerro  de  Pasco,  in  haciendas,  be- 
longing to  the  great  mine  owners.  The  process  is  executed  in  a 
very  clumsy,  imperfect,  and  at  the  same  time,  a  very  expensive 
manner.  The  amalgamation  of  the  quicksilver  with  the  metal 
is  effected  by  the  tramping  of  horses.  The  animals  employed  in 
this  way  are  a  small  ill-looking  race,  brought  from  Ayacucho 
and  Cuzco,  where  they  are  found  in  numerous  herds.  The 
quicksilver  speedily  has  a  fatal  effect  on  their  hoofs,  and  after  a 
few  years  the  animals  become  unfit  for  work.  The  separation 
of  the  metals  is  managed  with  as  little  judgment  as  the  amalga- 
mation, and  the  waste  of  quicksilver  is  enormous.  It  is  com- 
puted that  on  each  mark  of  silver,  half  a  pound  of  quicksilver  is 
expended.  The  quicksilver,  with  the  exception  of  some  little 
brought  from  Idria  and  Huancavelica,  comes  from  Spain  in  iron 
jars,  each  containing  about  seventy-five  pounds  weight  of  the 
metal.  In  Lima  the  price  of  these  jars  is  from  sixty  to  100 
dollars  each,  but  they  are  occasionally  sold  as  high  as  135  or 
140  dollars.  Considering  the  vast  losses  which  the  Peruvian 
mine  owners  sustain  by  the  waste  of  quicksilver  and  the  de- 
fective mode  of  refining,  it  may  fairly  be  inferred,  that  their 
profits  are  about  one-third  less  than  they  would  be  under  a  better 
system  of  management. 

In  Cerro  de  Pasco  there  are  places  called  boliches,  in  which 
the  silver  is  separated  from  the  dross  by  the  same  process  as  that 
practised  in  the  haciendas,  only  on  a  smaller  scale.  In  the 
boliches  the  amalgamation  is  performed,  not  by  horses  but  by 
Indians,  who  mix  the  quicksilver  with  the  ore  by  stamping  on  it 
with  their  feet  for  several  hours  in  succession.  This  occupation 
they  usually  perform  barefooted,  and  the  consequence  is,  that 
paralysis  and  other  diseases  caused  by  the  action  of  mercury, 
are  very  frequent  among  the  persons  thus  employed.  The 


234  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


owners  of  the  boliches,  who  are  mostly  Italians,  are  not  mine 
proprietors.  They  obtain  the  metal  from  the  Indians,  who  give 
them  their  Jmachacas*  in  exchange  for  brandy  and  other  articles. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  owners  of  the  boliches  obtain  the  money 
required  for  their  speculations  from  capitalists,  who  make  them 
pay  an  enormous  interest.  Nevertheless,  many  amass  consider- 
able fortunes  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  ;  for  they  scruple  not 
to  take  the  most  unjust  advantage  of  the  Indians,  whose  labori- 
ous toil  is  rewarded  by  little  gain. 

The  law  requires  that  all  the  silver  drawn  from  the  mines  of 
Cerro  de  Pasco  shall  be  conveyed  to  a  government  smelting- 
house,  called  the  Cattana,  there  to  be  cast  into  bars  of  one 
hundred  pounds  weight,  to  be  stamped,  and  charged  with  certain 
imposts.  The  value  of  silver  in  Cerro  de  Pasco  varies  from 
seven  to  eight  dollars  per  mark.  The  standard  value  in  Lima 
is  eight  dollars  and  a  half.  * 

It  is  impossible  to  form  anything  like  an  accurate  estimate  of 
the  yearly  produce  of  the  mines  of  Cerro  de  Pasco  ;  for  a  vast 
quantity  of  silver  is  never  taken  to  the  Callana,  but  is  smuggled 
to  the  coast,  and  from  thence  shipped  for  Europe.  In  the  year 
1838,  no  less  than  85,000  marks  of  contraband  silver  were  con- 
veyed to  the  sea  port  of  Huacho,  and  safely  shipped  on  board  a 
schooner.  The  quantity  of  silver  annually  smelted  and  stamped 
in  the  Callana  is  from  two  to  three  hundred  thousand  marks — 
seldom  exceeding  the  latter  amount.  From  1784  to  1820,  1826, 
and  1827,  the  amount  was  8,051,409  marks;  in  the  year  1784 
it  was  68,208  marks  ;  and  in  1785,  73,455  marks.  During 
seventeen  years  it  was  under  200,000  marks  ;  and  only  during 
three  years  above  300,000.  The  produce  of  the  mines  is  ex- 
ceedingly fluctuating.  The  successive  revolutions  which  have 
agitated  the  country  have  tended  very  considerably  to  check 
mining  operations.  On  the  overthrow  of  Santa  Cruz,  Don 
Miguel  Otero,  the  most  active  and  intelligent  mino  owner  of 
Cerro  de  Pasco,  was  banished  ;  an  event  which  had  a  very  de- 
pressing influence  on  all  the  mining  transactions  of  that  part  of 

*  Huachacas  are  the  portions  of  ore  which  are  distributed  among  the  In- 
dians at  the  time  of  the  boy  as,  instead  of  their  wages  being  paid  in  money. 


POPULATION  OF  CERRO  DE  PASCO.  235 


South  America.  Within  the  last  few  years,  however,  mining 
has  received  a  new  impetus,  and  attention  has  been  directed  to 
the  adoption  of  a  more  speedy  and  less  expensive  system  of 
amalgamation. 

As  a  place  of  residence  Cerro  de  Pasco  is  exceedingly  disa- 
greeable ;  nothing  but  the  pursuit  of  wealth  can  reconcile  any 
one  to  a  long  abode  in  it.  The  climate,  like  that  of  the  higher 
Puna,  is  cold  and  stormy.  The  better  sort  of  houses  are  well 
built,  and  are  provided  with  good  English  fire-places  and  chim- 
neys. But  however  comfortably  lodged,  the  new  comer  cannot 
easily  reconcile  himself  to  the  reflection  that  the  earth  is  hollow 
beneath  his  feet.  Still  less  agreeable  is  it  to  be  awakened  in 
the  night  by  the  incessant  hammering  of  the  Indian  miners. 
Luckily  earthquakes  are  of  rare  occurrence  in  those  parts  :  it 
would  require  no  very  violent  shock  to  bury  the  whole  city  in 
the  bosom  of  the  earth. 

Silver  being  the  only  produce  of  the  soil,  the  necessaries  of 
life  are  all  exceedingly  dear  in  the  Cerro,  as  they  have  to  be 
brought  from  distant  places.  The  warehouses  are,  it  is  true, 
always  plentifully  supplied  even  with  the  choicest  luxuries  ;  but 
the  extortion  of  venders  and  the  abundance  of  money  render 
prices  most  exorbitant.  The  market  is  so  well  supplied  with 
provisions  that  it  may  vie  with  that  of  Lima.  The  products  of  the 
coast,  of  the  table-lands  and  the  forests,  are  all  to  be  procured 
in  the  market  of  Cerro  de  Pasco ;  but  the  price  demanded  for 
every  article  is  invariably  more  than  double  its  worth.  House 
rents  are  also  extravagantly  high  ;  and  the  keep  of  horses  is 
exceedingly  expensive. 

The  population  of  Cerro  de  Pasco  presents  a  motley  assem- 
blage of  human  beings,  such  as  one  would  scarcely  expect  to 
find  in  a  city  situated  at  14,000  feet  above  the  sea,  and  encircled 
by  wild  mountains.  The  Old  and  the  New  Worlds  seem  there 
to  have  joined  hands,  and  there  is  scarcely  any  nation  of  Europe 
or  America  that  has  not  its  representative  in  Cerro  de  Pasco. 
The  Swede  and  the  Sicilian,  the  Canadian  and  the  Argentinian, 
are  all  united  here  at  one  point,  and  for  one  object.  The  inha- 
bitants of  this  city  may  be  ranked  in  two  divisions,  viz.,  traders 
and  miners — taking  both  terms  in  their  most  comprehensive 


236  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


sense.  The  mercantile  population  consists  chiefly  of  Europeans 
or  white  Creoles,  particularly  those  who  are  owners  of  large 
magazines.  The  keepers  of  coffee  houses  and  brandy  shops  are 
here,  as  in  Lima,  chiefly  Italians  from  Genoa.  Other  shops  are 
kept  by  the  Mestizos,  and  the  provision-dealers  are  chiefly  In- 
dians, who  bring  their  supplies  from  remote  places. 

The  mining  population  may  be  divided  into  mine  owners  (mi- 
neros)  and  Indian  laborers.  The  majority  of  the  mineros  are 
descendants  of  the  old  Spanish  families,  who,  at  an  early  period, 
became  possessors  of  the  mines,  whence  they  derived  enormous 
wealth,  which  most  of  them  dissipated  in  prodigal  extravagance. 
At  the  present  time,  only  a  very  few  of  the  mineros  are  rich 
enough  to  defray,  from  their  own  resources,  the  vast  expense 
attending  the  operations  of  mining.  They  consequently  raise  the 
required  money  by  loans  from  the  capitalists  of  Lima,  who  re- 
quire interest  of  100  or  120  per  cent.,  and,  moreover,  insist  on 
having  t>ars  of  silver  at  a  price  below  standard  value.  To  these 
hard  conditions,  together  with  the  custom  that  has  been  forced 
upon  the  miners  of  paying  their  laborers  in  metal,  at  times  when 
it  is  very  abundant,  may  be  traced  the  cause  of  the  miserable 
system  of  mine-working  practised  in  Cerro  de  Pasco.  To  liqui- 
date his  burthensome  debts  the  minero  makes  his  laborers  dig  as 
much  ore  as  possible  from  the  mine,  without  any  precautions 
being  taken  to  guard  against  accidents.  The  money-lenders,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  no  other  security  for  the  recovery  of  their 
re-payment  than  the  promise  of  the  minero,  and  a  failure  of  the 
usual  produce  of  a  mine  exposes  them  to  the  risk  of  losing  the 
money  they  have  advanced. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  can  scarcely  be  expected  that 
the  character  and  habits  of  the  minero  should  qualify  him  to  take 
a  high  rank  in  the  social  scale.  His  insatiable  thirst  for  wealth 
continually  prompts  him  to  embark  in  new  enterprises,  whereby 
he  frequently  loses  in  one  what  he  gains  in  another.  After  a 
mine  has  been  worked  without  gain  for  a  series  of  years,  an  un- 
expected loya  probably  occurs,  and  an  immense  quantity  of  sil- 
ver may  be  extracted.  But  a  minero  retiring  on  the  proceeds 
of  a  boy  a  is  an  event  of  rare  occurrence.  A  vain  hope  of  in- 
creasing fortune  prompts  him  to  risk  the  certain  for  the  uncer- 


THE  HAPIRES.  237 


tain :  and  the  result  frequently  is,  that  the  once  prosperous  mi- 
nero  has  nothing  to  bequeath  to  his  children  but  a  mine  heavily 
burthened  with  debt.  The  persevering  ardor  of  persons  engaged 
in  mining  is  truly  remarkable.  Unchecked  by  disappointment, 
they  pursue  the  career  in  which  they  have  embarked.  Even 
when  ruin  appears  inevitable,  the  love  of  money  subdues  the 
warnings  of  reason,  and  hope  conjures  up,  from  year  to  year, 
visionary  pictures  of  riches  yet  to  come. 

Joined  to  this  infatuated  pursuit  of  the  career  once  entered  on, 
an  inordinate  passion  for  cards  and  dice  contributes  to  ruin  many 
of  the  mineros  of  Cerro  de  Pasco.  In  few  other  places  are  such 
vast  sums  staked  at  the  gaming-table ;  for  the  superabundance 
of  silver  feeds  that  national  vice  of  the  Spaniards  and  their  de- 
scendants. From  the  earliest  hours  of  morning  cards  and  dice 
are  in  requisition.  The  mine  owner  leaves  his  silver  stores,  and 
the  shop-keeper  forsakes  his  counter,  to  pass  a  few  hours  every 
day  at  the  gaming-table  ;  and  card-playing  is  the  only  amuse- 
ment in  the  best  houses  of  the  town.  The  mayordomos,  after 
being  engaged  in  the  mines  throughout  the  whole  day,  assemble 
with  their  comrades  in  the  evening,  round  the  gaming-table, 
from  which  they  often  do  not  rise  until  six  in  the  morning,  when 
the  bell  summons  them  to  resume  their  subterraneous  occupa- 
tions. They  not  unfrequently  gamble  away  their  share  of  a 
boya  before  any  indication  of  one  is  discernible  in  the  mine. 

The  working  class  of  miners  is  composed  of  Indians,  who 
throng  to  Cerro  de  Pasco  from  all  the  provinces,  far  and  near, 
especially  when  boy  as  are  expected.  At  times,  when  the  mines 
are  not  very  productive,  the  number  of  Indian  laborers  amounts 
to  between  three  and  four  thousand  ;  but  when  there  is  a  great 
supply  of  metal,  the  ordinary  number  of  mine-workers  is  more 
than  tripled.  The  Indians  labor  with  a  degree  of  patient  indus- 
try, which  it  would  be  vain  to  expect  from  European  workmen 
similarly  circumstanced.  This  observation  applies  to  the  ha- 
pires  in  particular.  Content  with  wretched  food,  and  still  more 
wretched  lodging,  the  hapire  goes  through  his  hard  day's  work, 
partaking  of  no  refreshment  but  coca,  and  at  the  end  of  the  week 
(deduction  being  made  for  the  food,  &c.,  obtained  on  credit  from 
the  minero),  he,  possibly,  finds  himself  in  possession  of  a  dollar. 


238  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


This  sum  he  spends  on  his  Sunday  holiday  in  chicha  and  brandy, 
of  which  he  takes  as  much  as  his  money  will  pay  for,  or  as  he 
can  get  on  credit.  When  excited  by  strong  drinks,  such  as 
maize  beer,  chicha,  and  brandy,  to  which  they  are  very  much 
addicted,  the  Indian  miners  are  exceedingly  quarrelsome.  The 
laborers  belonging  to  the  different  mines  go  about  the  streets 
rioting  and  attacking  each  other,  and  they  frequently  get  involved 
in  dangerous  affrays.  No  Sunday  or  Friday  passes  over  without 
the  occurrence  of  battles,  in  which  knives,  sticks,  and  stones  are 
used  as  weapons  ;  and  the  actors  in  these  scenes  of  violence 
inflict  on  each  other  severe  and  often  fatal  wounds.  Any  effec- 
tive police  interference  to  quell  these  street  riots,  is  out  of  the 
question. 

When  an  unusually  abundant  produce  of  the  mines  throws 
extra  payment  into  the  hands  of  the  mine  laborers,  they  squan- 
der their  money  with  the  most  absurd  extravagance,  and  they  are 
excellent  customers  to  the  European  dealers  in  dress  and  other 
articles  of  luxury.  Prompted  by  a  ludicrous  spirit  of  imitation, 
the  Indian,  in  his  fits  of  drunkenness,  will  purchase  costly  things 
which  he  can  have  no  possible  use  for,  and  which  he  becomes 
weary  of,  after  an  hour's  possession.  I  once  saw  an  Indian  pur- 
chase a  cloak  of  fine  cloth,  for  which  he  paid  ninety-two  dollars. 
He  then  repaired  to  a  neighboring  pulperia,*  where  he  drank  till 
he  became  intoxicated,  and  then,  staggering  into  the  street,  he 
fell  down,  and  rolled  in  the  kennel.  On  rising,  and  discovering 
that  his  cloak  was  besmeared  with  mud,  he  threw  it  off,  and  left 
it  in  the  street,  for  any  one  who  might  choose  to  pick  it  up.  Such 
acts  of  reckless  prodigality  are  of  daily  occurrence.  A  watch- 
maker in  Cerro  de  Pasco  informed  me  that  one  day  an  Indian 
came  to  his  shop  to  purchase  a  gold  watch.  He  showed  him  one, 
observing  that  the  price  was  twelve  gold  ounces  (204  dollars), 
and  that  it  would  probably  be  too  dear  for  him.  The  Cholo  paid 
the  money,  and  took  the  watch  ;  then,  after  having  examined  it 
for  a  few  minutes,  he  dashed  it  on  the  ground,  observing  that  the 
thing  was  of  no  use  to  him.  When  the  Indian  miner  possesses 
money,  he  never  thinks  of  laying  by  a  part  of  it,  as  neither  he 

*  A  shop  in  which  chicha,  brandy,  &c.,  are  vended. 


THE  SALCEDO  MINE.  233 


nor  any  of  his  family  feel  the  least  ambition  to  improve  their 
miserable  way  of  life.  With  them,  drinking  is  the  highest  of 
all  gratifications,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  present  moment, 
they  lose  sight  of  all  considerations  for  the  future.  Even  those 
Cholos  who  come  from  distant  parts  of  the  country  to  share  in 
the  rich  harvest  of  the  mines  of  Cerro  de  Pasco,  return  to  their 
homes  as  poor  as  when  they  left  them,  and  with  manners  and 
morals  vastly  deteriorated. 

Besides  the  mines  of  Cerro  de  Pasco,  which  in  point  of  impor- 
tance are  nowise  inferior  to  those  of  Potosi,  there  are  numerous 
very  rich  mining  districts  in  Peru.  Among  the  most  prolific  may 
be  ranked  the  provinces  of  Pataz,  Huamanchuco,  Caxamarca, 
and  Hualgayoc.  In  this  last-named  province  is  situated  the 
Cerro  de  San  Fernando,  on  which  Alexander  Von  Humboldt  has 
conferred  so  much  celebrity.  The  rich  silver  veins  were  dis- 
covered there  in  the  year  1771 ;  and  there  are  now  upwards  of 
1400  bocaminas.  On  the  insulated  mountain  the  veins  of  metal 
intersect  each  other  in  every  direction,  and  they  are  alike  re- 
markable for  being  easily  worked  and  exceedingly  prolific.  The 
mines  of  Huantaxaya,  situated  on  the  coast  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Iquique,  were  also  very  rich,  and  the  silver  obtained  from  them 
was  either  pure  or  containing  a  very  slight  admixture  of  foreign 
substances.  They  yielded  an  incredible  quantity  of  metal,  but 
they  were  speedily  exhausted ;  and  are  now  totally  barren.  The 
chains  of  hills  in  the  southern  districts  of  Peru  contain  a  multi- 
tude of  very  rich  mines,  of  which  the  most  remarkable  are  those 
of  San  Antonio  de  Esquilache,  Tamayos,  Picotani,  Cancharani, 
and  Chupicos ;  but  owing  to  bad  working  and  defective  drainage, 
many  of  the  veins  are  in  a  very  ruinous  state,  and  the  metal 
drawn  from  them  bears  no  proportion  to  the  quantity  they  con- 
tain. The  Salcedo  mine  is  very  celebrated  for  the  vast  abun- 
dance of  its  produce,  and  the  tragical  end  of  its  original  owner. 

Don  Jose  Salcedo,  a  poor  Spaniard,  who  dwelt  in  Puno,  was  in 
love  with  a  young  Indian  girl,  whose  mother  promised,  on  condi- 
tion of  his  marrying  her  daughter,  that  she  would  show  him 
a  rich  silver  mine.  Salcedo  fulfilled  the  condition,  obtained 
possession  of  the  mine,  and  worked  it  with  the  greatest  success. 
The  report  of  his  wealth  soon  roused  the  envy  of  the  Count  de 


210  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Lemos,  then  viceroy  of  Peru,  who  sought  to  possess  himself  of  the 
mine.  By  his  generosity  and  benevolence  Salcedo  had  become 
a  great  favorite  with  the  Indian  population,  and  the  viceroy  took 
advantage  of  this  circumstance  to  accuse  him  of  high  treason,  on 
the  ground  that  he  was  exciting  the  Indians  against  the  Spanish 
government.  Salcedo  was  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to 
death.  Whilst  he  was  in  prison,  he  begged  to  be  permitted  to 
send  to  Madrid  the  documents  relating  to  his  trial,  and  to  appeal 
to  the  mercy  of  the  king.  He  proposed,  if  the  viceroy  would 
grant  his  request,  that  he  would  pay  him  the  daily  tribute  of  a 
bar  of  silf  er,  from  the  time  when  the  ship  left  the  port  of  Callao 
with  the  documents,  until  the  day  of  her  return.  When  it  is  re- 
collected that  at  that  period  the  voyage  from  Callao  to  Spain 
occupied  from  twelve  to  sixteen  months,  some  idea  may  be  formed 
of  the  enormous  wealth  of  Salcedo  and  his  mine.  The  viceroy 
rejected  this  proposition,  ordered  Salcedo  to  be  hanged,  and  set 
out  for  Puno  to  take  possession  of  the  mine.* 

But  this  cruel  and  unjust  proceeding  failed  in  the  attainment 
of  its  object.  As  soon  as  Salcedo's  death-doom  was  pronounced, 
his  mother-in-law,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  relations  and 
friends,  repaired  to  the  mine,  flooded  it  with  water,  destroyed  the 
works,  and  closed  up  the  entrance  so  effectually  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  trace  it  out.  They  then  dispersed ;  but  some  of  them, 
who  were  afterwards  captured,  could  not  be  induced,  either  by 
promises  or  tortures,  to  reveal  the  position  of  the  mouth  of  the 
mine,  which  to  this  day  remains  undiscovered.  All  that  is  known 
about  it  is  that  it  was  situated  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cerro  de 
Laycacota  and  Cananchari. 

Another  extraordinary  example  of  the  productiveness  of  the 
Peruvian  mines,  is  found  at  San  Jose,  in  the  department  of 
Huancavelica.  The  owner  of  the  mines  of  San  Jose  requested 
the  viceroy  Castro,  whose  friend  he  was,  to  become  godfather  to 
his  first  child.  The  viceroy  consented,  but  at  the  time  fixed  for 
the  christening,  some  important  affair  of  state  prevented  him  from 
quitting  the  capital,  and  he  sent  the  vice-queen  to  officiate  as  his 
proxy.  To  render  honor  to  his  illustrious  guest,  the  owner  of  the 

*  The  date  of  Salcedo's  death  was  May,  1669 


MINES  SECRETLY  KNOWN  TO  THE  INDIANS.  241 

San  Jose  mines  laid  down  a  triple  row  of  silver  bars  along  the 
whole  way  (and  it  was  no  very  short  distance),  from  his  house  to 
church.  Over  this  silver  pavement  the  vice-queen  accompanied 
the  infant  to  the  church,  where  it  was  baptized.  On  her  return, 
her  munificent  host  presented  to  her  the  whole  of  the  silver  road, 
in  token  of  his  gratitude  for  the  honor  she  had  conferred  on  him. 
Since  that  time,  the  mines  and  the  province  in  which  they  are 
situated  have  borne  the  name  of  Castrovireyna.  In  most  of  these 
mines  the  works  have  been  discontinued.  Owing  to  defective 
arrangements,  one  of  the  richest  of  these  mines  fell  in,  and  122 
workmen  were  buried  in  the  ruins.  Since  that  catastrophe,  the 
Indians  refuse  to  enter  the  mines.  Many  stories  are  related  of 
spirits  and  apparitions  said  to  haunt  the  mines  of  Castrovireyna. 
I  was  surprised  to  hear  these  tales,  for  the  imagination  of  the 
Indian  miners  is  not  very  fertile  in  the  creation  of  this  sort  of 
superstitious  terrors. 

Notwithstanding  the  enormous  amount  of  wealth,  which  the 
mines  of  Peru  have  already  yielded,  and  still  continue  to  yield, 
only  a  very  small  portion  of  the  silver  veins  has  been  worked. 
It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  the  Indians  are  aware  of  the  exist- 
ence of  many  rich  mines,  the  situation  of  which  they  will  never 
disclose  to  the  whites,  nor  to  the  detested  mestizos.  Heretofore 
mining  has  been  to  them  all  toil  and  little  profit,  and  it  has  bound 
them  in  chains  from  which  they  will  not  easily  emancipate  them- 
selves. For  centuries  past,  the  knowledge  of  some  of  the  richest 
silver  mines  has  been  with  inviolable  secresy  transmitted  from 
father  to  son.  All  endeavors  to  prevail  on  them  to  divulge  these 
secrets  have  hitherto  been  fruitless.  In  the  village  of  Huancayo, 
there  lived,  a  few  years  ago,  two  brothers,  Don  Jose  and  Don 
Pedro  Yriarte,  two  of  the  most  eminent  mineros  of  Peru.  Hav- 
ing obtained  certain  intelligence  that  in  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains there  existed  some  veins  of  pure  silver,  they  sent  a  young 
man,  their  agent,  to  endeavor  to  gain  further  information  on  the 
subject.  The  agent  took  up  his  abode  in  the  cottage  of  a 
shepherd,  to  whom,  however,  he  gave  not  the  slightest  intimation 
of  the  object  of  his  mission.  After  a  little  time,  an  attachment 
arose  between  the  young  man  and  the  shepherd's  daughter,  and 
the  girl  promised  to  disclose  to  her  lover  the  position  of  a  very 
12 


242  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


rich  mine.  On  a  certain  day,  when  she  was  going  out  to  tend 
her  sheep,  she  told  him  to  follow  her  at  a  distance,  and  to  notice 
the  spot  where  she  would  let  fall  her  mania  ;  by  turning  up  the 
earth  on  that  spot,  she  assured  him  he  would  find  the  mouth 
of  a  mine.  The  young  man  did  as  he  was  directed,  and  after 
digging  for  a  little  time,  he  discovered  a  mine  of  considerable 
depth,  containing  rich  ore.  Whilst  busily  engaged  in  breaking 
out  the  metal,  he  was  joined  by  the  girl's  father,  who  expressed 
himself  delighted  at  the  discovery,  and  offered  to  assist  him. 
After  they  had  been  at  work  for  some  hours,  the  old  Indian 
handed  to  his  companion  a  cup  of  chicha,  which  the  young  man 
thankfully  accepted.  But  he  had  no  sooner  tasted  the  liquor  than 
he  felt  ill,  and  he  soon  became  convinced  that  poison  had  been 
mixed  with  the  beverage.  He  snatched  up  the  bag  containing 
the  metal  he  had  collected,  mounted  his  horse,  and  with  the 
utmost  speed  galloped  off  to  Huancayo.  There,  he  related  to 
Yriarte  all  that  had  occurred,  described  as  accurately  as  he  could 
the  situation  of  the  mine,  and  died  on  the  following  night.  Active 
measures  were  immediately  set  on  foot,  to  trace  out  the  mine,  but 
without  effect.  The  Indian  and  all  his  family  had  disappeared, 
and  the  mine  was  never  discovered. 

In  Huancayo  there  also  dwelt  a  Franciscan  monk.  He  was 
an  inveterate  gamester,  and  was  involved  in  pecuniary  embar- 
rassments. The  Indians  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  dwelling- 
place  were  much  attached  to  him,  and  frequently  sent  him  pre- 
sents of  poultry,  cheese,  butter,  &c.  One  day,  after  he  had  been 
a  loser  at  the  gaming-table,  he  complained  bitterly  of  his  mis- 
fortunes to  an  Indian,  who  was  his  particular  friend.  After 
some  deliberation,  the  Indian  observed,  that  possibly  he  could 
render  him  some  assistance ;  and,  accordingly,  on  the  following 
evening,  he  brought  him  a  large  bag  full  of  rich  silver  ore. 
This  present  was  several  times  repeated  ;  but  the  monk,  not 
satisfied,  pressed  the  Indian  to  show  him  the  mine  from  whence 
the  treasure  was  drawn.  The  Indian  consented,  and  on  an  ap- 
pointed night  he  came,  accompanied  by  two  of  his  comrades,  to 
the  dwelling  of  the  Franciscan.  They  blindfolded  him,  and 
each  in  turn  carried  him  on  his  shoulders  to  a  distance  of  several 
leagues,  into  the  mountain  passes.  At  length  they  set  him  down, 


MINES  SECRETLY  KNOWN  TO  THE  INDIANS.  243 

and  the  bandage  being  removed  from  his  eyes,  he  discovered  that 
he  was  in  a  small  and  somewhat  shallow  shaft,  and  was  sur- 
rounded by  bright  masses  of  silver.  He  was  allowed  to  take  as 
much  as  he  could  carry,  and  when  laden  with  the  rich  prize,  he 
was  again  blindfolded,  and  conveyed  home  in  the  same  manner 
as  he  had  been  brought  to  the  mine.  Whilst  the  Indians  were 
conducting  him  home,  he  hit  on  the  following  stratagem.  He 
unfastened  his  rosary,  and  here  and  there  dropped  one  of  the 
beads,  hoping  by  this  means  to  be  enabled  to  trace  his  way  back 
on  the  following  day  ;  but  in  the  course  of  a  couple  of  hours  his 
Indian  friend  again  knocked  at  his  door,  and  presenting  to  him  a 
handful  of  beads,  said,  "  Father,  you  dropped  your  rosary  on  the 
way,  and  I  have  picked  it  up." 

When  I  was  in  Jauja,  in  the  year  1841,  an  Indian  whom  I  had 
previously  known,  from  his  having  accompanied  me  on  one  of 
my  journeys  in  the  Sierra,  came  to  me  and  asked  me  to  lend 
him  a  crow-bar.  I  did  so,  and  after  a  few  days,  when  he  returned 
it,  I  observed  that  the  end  was  covered  with  silver.  Some  time 
afterwards  I  learned  that  this  Indian  had  been  imprisoned  by 
order  of  the  sub-prefect,  because  he  had  offered  for  sale  some 
very  rich  silver  ore,  and  on  being  questioned  as  to  where  he  had 
obtained  it,  his  answer  was  that  he  found  it  on  the  road  ;  a  tale,  the 
truth  of  which  was  very  naturally  doubted.  The  following  year, 
when  I  was  again  in  Jauja,  the  Indian  paid  me  another  visit. 
He  then  informed  me  that  he  had  been  for  several  months  confined 
in  a  dark  dungeon  and  half-starved,  because  the  sub-prefect 
wanted  to  compel  him  to  reveal  the  situation  of  a  mine  which  he 
knew  of,  but  that  he  would  not  disclose  the  secret,  and  adhered 
firmly  to  the  statement  he  had  made  of  having  found  the  ore. 
After  a  little  further  conversation,  he  became  more  communica- 
tive than  I  had  any  reason  to  expect,  though  he  was  fully  con- 
vinced I  would  not  betray  him.  He  confessed  to  me  that  he 
actually  knew  of  a  large  vein  containing  valuable  silver,  of 
which  he  showed  me  a  specimen.  He  further  told  me  that  it 
was  only  when  he  was  much  in  want  of  money  that  he  had  re- 
course to  the  mine,  of  which  the  shaft  was  not  very  deep ;  and, 
moreover,  that  after  closing  it  up,  he  always  carried  the  loose 
rubbish  away  to  a  distance  of  some  miles,  and  then  covered  the 


244  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


opening  so  carefully  with  turf  and  cactus,  that  it  was  impossible 
for  any  one  to  discern  it.  This  Indian  dwelt  in  a  miserable  hut, 
about  three  leagues  from  Jauja,  and  his  occupation  was  making 
wooden  stirrups,  which  employment  scarcely  enabled  him  to  earn 
a  scanty  subsistence.  He  assured  me  it  was  only  when  he  was 
called  upon  to  pay  contributions,  which  the  government  exacts 
with  merciless  rigor,  that  he  had  recourse  to  the  mine.  He 
then  extracted  about  half  an  aroba  of  ore,  and  sold  it  in  Jauja,  in 
order  to  pay  the  tax  levied  on  him. 

I  could  quote  many  well-authenticated  instances  of  the  same 
kind ;  but  the  above  examples  sufficiently  prove  the  reluctance 
of  the  Indians  to  disclose  the  secret  of  their  hidden  treasures, 
and  their  indifference  about  obtaining  wealth  for  themselves.  It 
is  true  that  the  Indians  are  not,  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  so 
resolutely  reserved  as  they  are  in  Huancayo  and  Jauja,  for  all 
the  most  important  mines  have  been  made  known  to  the  Spaniards 
by  the  natives.  But  the  Peruvian  Indians  are  composed  of  many 
different  races,  and  though  all  were  united  by  the  Incas  into  one 
nation,  yet  they  still  differ  from  each  other  in  manners  and  cha- 
racter. The  sentiment  of  hatred  towards  the  whites  and  their 
descendants  has  not  been  kept  up  in  an  equal  degree  among  them 
all.  In  proportion  as  some  are  friendly  and  social  with  the 
Creoles,  others  are  reserved  and  distrustful.  In  general,  the 
Indians  regard  with  unfriendly  feelings  those  whites  who  seek  to 
trace  out  new  mines  ;  for  they  cherish  a  bitter  recollection  of  the 
fate  of  Huari  Capcha,  the  discoverer  of  the  mines  of  Cerro  de 
Pasco,  who,  it  is  said,  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon  by  the  Spaniard, 
Ugarte,  and  ended  his  days  in  captivity.  I  have  not  met  with 
any  proofs  of  the  authenticity  of  this  story,  but  I  frequently 
heard  it  related  by  the  Indians,  who  referred  to  it  as  their  justi- 
fication for  withholding  from  the  whites  any  directions  for  finding 
mines. 

But  to  return  to  Cerro  de  Pasco.  That  city  has,  by  its  wealth, 
become  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  Peruvian  Republic ; 
and  under  improved  legislation,  and  a  judicious  mining  system, 
it  might  be  rendered  still  more  prosperous  and  fully  deserving  of 
its  title  of  "  Treasury  of  Peru.rt  Though  from  its  situation  Cerro 
de  Pasco  is  cut  off  from  the  principal  lines  of  communication  with 


LAKE  OF  CHINCHAYCOCHA.  245 

other  parts  of  Peru,  yet  the  city  is  itself  the  central  point  of  tour 
roads,  on  which  there  is  considerable  traffic.  Westward  runs  the 
road  to  Lima,  through  the  Quebrada  of  Canta,  by  which  all  the 
silver  that  is  not  contraband  is  transported  to  the  capital.  The 
silver,  when  melted  into  bars,  is  consigned  to  the  care  of  the  mule- 
drivers,  merely  on  their  giving  a  receipt  for  it ;  and  in  this  man- 
ner they  are  sometimes  entrusted  with  loads  of  the  value  of  seve- 
ral hundred  thousand  dollars,  which  they  convey  to  Lima  unat- 
tended by  any  guards  or  escort.  There  is,  however,  no  danger 
of  their  being  plundered  ;  for  the  robbers  do  not  take  the  stamped 
bars  of  silver.  The  silver  specie,  on  the  other  hand,  which  is  sent 
from  Lima,  is  escorted  by  a  military  guard  as  far  as  Llanga  or 
Santa  Rosa  de  Quibe.  The  escort  is  not,  however,  very  adequate 
to  resist  the  highway  robbers,  consisting  of  numerous  bands  of 
armed  negroes.  On  the  east  is  the  road  running  through  the 
Quebrada  de  Huarriaca  to  the  town  of  Huanuco  and  the  Hualla- 
ga  Forests'.  The  road  on  the  north  of  Cerro  de  Pasco  leads  to 
the  village  of  Huanuco  el  Viejo,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  places 
of  Peru,  being  full  of  interesting  ruins  of  the  time  of  the  Incas. 
From  Huanuco  the  road  leads  to  Huaraz,  and  from  thence  to  the 
north  coast.  The  south  road  passes  over  the  level  heights  to 
Tarma,  Jauja,  and  the  other  southern  provinces. 

From  the  village  of  Pasco  two  roads  diverge,  the  one  leading 
to  Lima,  the  other  to  Tarma.  The  former  crosses  the  Pampa  of 
Bombon  and  the  Diezmo,  and  continues  onward  to  the  Pass  of  La 
Viuda.  The  latter  leads  by  way  of  the  Tambo  Ninacaca,  and 
the  village  of  Carhuamayo*  to  Junin,  passing  near  a  very  large 
lake,  situated  at  the  height  of  13,000  feet  above  the  sea.  This 
lake  is  the  Laguna  de  Chinchaycocha,f  which  is  twelve  leagues 
long,  and  at  its  utmost  breadth  measures  two  leagues  and  a  half. 
It  is  the  largest  of  the  South  American  lakes,  next  to  the  Laguna 
de  Titicaca,  which  is  eighty-four  English  miles  long  and  forty- 
one  broad.  As  the  lake  of  Chinchaycocha  loses  by  various  out- 
lets much  more  water  than  it  receives  from  its  tributary  sources, 
it  is  evident  that  it  must  be  fed  by  subterraneous  springs.  Its 
marshy  banks  are  overgrown  by  totora  (Malacochate  Totora"),  and 

*  Ninacaca  is  12,853  feet,  and  Carhuamayo  13,087  feet  above  the  sea  level, 
t  It  is  also  called  the  Laguna  de  Reyes,  and  the  Laguna  de  Junin. 


246  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


are  inhabited  by  numerous  water  fowl.  The  Indians  entertain 
a  superstitious  belief  that  this  lake  is  haunted  by  huge,  fish-like 
animals,  who  at  certain  hours  of  the  night  leave  their  watery 
abode  to  prowl  about  the  adjacent  pasture  lands,  where  they  com- 
mit great  havoc  among  the  cattle.  The  southwestern  end  of  the 
lake  is  intersected  by  a  marshy  piece  of  ground,  interspersed 
with  stones,  called  the  Calzada,  which  forms  a  communication 
between  the  two  banks  of  the  lake.  At  the  distance  of  about  half 
a  league  from  the  lake  is  a  village,  which,  under  the  Spanish 
domination,  was  called  Reyes.  Adjacent  to  it  is  the  celebrated 
Pampa  of  Junin,  which,  on  the  24th  of  August,  1824,  was  the 
scene  of  a  battle  between  the  Spanish  forces,  commanded  by 
General  Canterac,  and  the  insurgents,  headed  by  Don  Simon 
Bolivar.  The  result  of  this  battle  had  an  important  influence  on 
the  destiny  of  Peru.  It  is  generally  believed  that  treachery  in 
the  Spanish  army  threw  the  victory  into  the  hands  of  the  insur- 
gents. A  few  days  prior  to  the  battle  Bolivar  is  said  to  have  re- 
ceived, from  the  Spanish  camp,  a  letter  in  cypher,  which  he 
transmitted  for  explanation  to  his  minister,  Monteagudo,  in  Cerro 
de  Pasco.  The  answer  received  from  the  minister  was,  that  the 
letter  recommended  Bolivar  to  attack  the  enemy  without  a  mo- 
ment's delay,  for  that  on  the  part  of  the  Spaniards  the  victory 
was  insured  to  him.  The  bearer  of  the  letter  is  still  living,  and 
he  does  not  deny  that  he  was  in  the  secret  of  the  whole  plot. 
The  insurgents  were  victorious,  and  in  commemoration  of  their 
triumph  they  gave  to  the  village  of  Reyes,  and  to  the  whole  pro- 
vince, the  name  of  Junin,  calling  them  after  the  plain  on  which 
the  battle  was  fought. 

From  Junin,  the  road  runs  to  the  distance  of  eight  leagues 
across  a  difficult  level  height,  to  Cacas,  a  hamlet  containing  only 
a  few  huts.  From  thence,  it  is  continued  three  leagues  further, 
through  several  narrow  Quebradas,  and  finally  terminates  in  the 
beautiful  valley  of  Tarma. 

Many  of  the  Indians  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cefro  de  Pasco, 
especially  those  who  dwell  in  the  Puna,  in  the  direction  of  Cacas, 
infest  the  roads  for  the  purpose  of  plunder.  They  conceal  them- 
selves behind  the  rocks,  where  they  lie  in  wait  for  travellers,  whom 
they  severely  wound,  and  sometimes  even  kill,  by  stones  hurled 


JOURNEY  IN  THE  PUNA.  247 

from  their  slings.  When  great  boyas  occur  in  the  mines  of  the 
Cerro,  these  roads  are  so  unsafe  that  it  is  not  prudent  to  travel, 
except  in  well-armed  parties.  The  solitary  traveller  who  seeks 
a  night's  lodging  in  one  of  the  Puna  huts,  exposes  himself  to  great 
peril ;  for  the  host  not  unfrequently  assassinates  his  sleeping  guest. 
Nor  is  there  much  greater  security  in  villages,  such  as  Junin  and 
Carhuamayo.  Only  a  few  years  ago,  the  bodies  of  three 
travellers  were  found  in  the  house  of  the  Alcalde  of  Junin,  the 
principal  authority  in  the  village.  The  travellers  had  sought 
shelter  for  the  night,  and  were  inhumanly  murdered.  Every 
year  persons  known  to  have  been  travelling  in  these  parts,  mys- 
teriously disappear,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  they  have 
been  murdered  by  the  Indians.  Many  of  these  Indians  are  mine 
laborers,  who,  for  their  incorrigible  turpitude,  have  been  banished 
from  the  Cerro,  and  who  live  by  pillage. 

I  will  close  this  chapter  with  a  brief  description  of  four-and- 
twenty  hours  which  I  passed  during  a  journey  in  the  wildest  part 
of  the  Puna  region. 

On  the  12th  of  January,  1840,  having  passed  the  night  in  the 
hut  of  a  Puna  shepherd,  I  awoke  next  morning  at  day-break. 
The  sun  was  just  beginning  to  cast  a  light  tinge  of  red  on  the 
snow-capped  tops  of  the  Cordillera.  Through  the  aperture  in 
the  roof  of  the  hut,  which  served  the  purpose  of  a  chimney, 
there  penetrated  a  feeble  light,  just  sufficient  to  show  the  misery 
and  poverty  that  prevailed  in  the  interior  of  the  habitation.  I 
rose  from  the  resting-place  on  which,  only  a  few  hours  previous- 
ly, I  had  stretched  myself  exhausted  by  cold  and  fatigue,  and 
raising  the  cow-hide,  which  closed  the  doorway  of  the  hut,  I 
crept  out  to  make  preparations  for  the  continuance  of  my  jour- 
ney. 

I  saddled  my  mule,  and  put  into  one  of  the  saddle-bags  a  small 
supply  of  food.  Whilst  I  was  thus  engaged,  one  of  those  fierce 
little  dogs  which  are  domiciled  in  every  Indian  hut,  slily  watched 
my  movements ;  and  though  he  had  rested  at  the  foot  of  my  bed 
during  the  night,  yet  he  was  only  prevented,  by  the  repeated 
threats  of  his  master,  from  making  an  attack  upon  me.  My  In- 
dian host  handed  me  my  gun  ;  I  paid  for  my  night's  lodging  by 
a  few  reals  and  some  paper  cigars ;  and  having  asked  him  to  di- 


248  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

rect  me  on  my  way,  I  rode  off  whilst  he  was  expressing  his  gra- 
titude, and  his  kind  wishes  in  the  words,  "  Dios  lo  pague  !  " 

The  sky  was  overhung  by  a  thick  mist,  and  the  snow  which 
had  fallen  during  the  night  covered  the  ground  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  On  my  way  I  met  an  old  Indian  woman  driving 
her  sheep.  The  bleating  flock  moved  slowly  on,  leaving  a  deep 
furrow  in  the  snow,  and  seeming  impatient  till  the  genial  sun 
should  dispel  the  mist  and  dissolve  the  white  covering  which  over- 
spread their  scanty  pasture.  A  little  further  on  I  met  the  son  of 
this  same  Indian  shepherdess.  He  and  his  dog  were  busily  en- 
gaged in  catching  partridges,  destined  to  be  sold  on  the  following 
Sunday,  in  the  nearest  village. 

My  road  lay  along  a  gentle  acclivity,  interspersed  with  rocks 
and  swamps,  which  often  obliged  me  to  make  wide  detours. 
The  swamps  (or  as  the  natives  call  them,  Attoladeros)  are  dan- 
gerous enemies  to  flfavellers  in  the  Puna,  who,  with  their  horses 
and  mules,  sometimes  sink  into  them  and  perish.  Even  in  the 
most  open  parts  of  the  country  it  is  not  easy  to  discern  the 
swamps,  and  the  ground  often  sinks  beneath  the  rider  where  he 
least  expects  it.  At  length  the  sun  began  to  disperse  the  mist, 
and  the  snow  gradually  melted  beneath  his  burning  rays.  In- 
spired with  new  vigor,  I  took  a  survey  of  the  wild  solitude  around 
me.  I  was  now  on  one  of  the  level  heights,  about  14,000  feet 
above  the  sea.  On  both  sides  arose  the  high  Cordillera  summits 
crowned  with  eternal  ice  ;  detached  peaks  here  and  there  tower- 
ing to  the  skies.  Behind  me  lay,  deep  and  deeper,  the  dark  val- 
leys of  the  lower  mountain  regions,  which,  with  the  scarcely  dis- 
cernible Indian  villages,  receded  in  the  distance,  till  they  blend- 
ed with  the  line  of  the  horizon.  Before  me  stretched  the  immea- 
surable extent  of  the  level  heights,  at  intervals  broken  by  ridges 
of  hills.  It  seemed  as  though  here,  in  the  snow  plains  of  the 
Cordillera,  Nature  had  breathed  out  her  last  breath.  Here  life 
and  death  meet  together  as  it  were  to  maintain  the  eternal  strug- 
gle between  being  and  annihilation. 

How  little  life  had  the  sun  yet  wakened  around  me  !  The 
dull  yellow  Puna  grass,  scarcely  the  length  of  one's  finger, 
blended  its  tint  with  the  greenish  hue  of  the  glaciers.  Advan- 
cing further  on  my  onward  course,  how  joyfully  I  greeted  as 


JOURNEY  IN  THE  PUNA.  249 

old  acquaintance  the  purple  gentiana  and  the  brown  calceolaria  ! 
With  what  pleasure  I  counted  the  yellow  blossoms  of  the  echino- 
cactus  !  and  presently  the  sight  of  the  ananas-cactus  pictured  in  my 
mind  all  the  luxuriance  of  the  primeval  forests.  These  cacti  were 
growing  amidst  rushes  and  mosses  and  syngeneses,  which  the  frost 
had  changed  to  a  rusty  brown  hue.  Not  a  butterfly  fluttered  in 
the  rarefied  atmosphere  ;  no  fly  nor  winged  insect  of  any  kind  was 
discernible.  A  beetle  or  a  toad  creeping  from  their  holes,  or  a 
lizard  warming  himself  in  the  sun,  are  all  that  reward  the  search 
of  the  naturalist. 

As  I  journeyed  onward,  animate  life  awakened  in  rich  variety 
around  me.  Birds,  few  in  species,  but  numerous  in  individuals, 
everywhere  met  my  view.  Herds  of  vicunas  approached  me 
with  curious  gaze,  and  then  on  a  sudden  fled  with  the  swiftness 
of  the  wind.  In  the  distance  I  observed  stately  groups  of  hua- 
nacus  turning  cautiously  to  look  at  me,  and  then  passing  on. 
The  Puna  stag  (tarush)  slowly  advanced  from  his  lair  in  the 
mountain  recesses,  and  fixed  on  me  his  large,  black,  wondering 
eyes ;  whilst  the  nimble  rock  rabbits  (viscachas)  playfully  dis- 
ported and  nibbled  the  scanty  herbage  growing  in  the  mountain 
crevices. 

I  had  wandered  for  some  hours  admiring  the  varieties  of  life 
in  this  peculiar  alpine  region,  when  I  stumbled  against  a  dead 
mule.  The  poor  animal  had  probably  sunk  beneath  his  burthen, 
and  had  been  left  by  his  driver  to  perish  of  cold  and  hunger.  My 
presence  startled  three  voracious  condors,  which  were  feeding  on 
the  dead  carcass.  These  kings  of  the  air  proudly  shook  their 
crowned  heads,  and  darted  at  me  furious  glances  with  their 
blood-red  eyes.  Two  of  them  rose  on  their  giant  wings,  and  in 
narrowing  circles  hovered  threateningly  above  my  head,  whilst  the 
third,  croaking  fiercely,  kept  guard  over  the  booty.  I  cocked  my 
gun  in  readiness  for  defence,  and  cautiously  rode  past  the  mena- 
cing group,  without  the  least  desire  of  further  disturbing  their 
banquet.  These  condors  were  the  only  hostile  animals  I  encoun 
tered  in  this  part  of  the  Puna. 

It  was  now  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  I  had  ridden  on  a 
continuous  though  gradual  ascent  since  sunrise.     My  panting 
mule  slackened  his  pace,  and  seemed  unwilling  to  mount  a  rather 
12* 


250  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


steep  ascent  which  we  had  now  arrived  at.  To  relieve  him  I  dis- 
mounted, and  began  walking  at  a  rapid  pace.  But  I  soon  felt 
the  influence  of  the  rarefied  atmosphere,  and  I  experienced  an 
oppressive  sensation  which  I  had  never  known  before.  I  stood 
still  for  a  few  moments  to  recover  myself,  and  then  tried  to  ad- 
vance ;  but  an  indescribable  oppression  overcame  me.  My 
heart  throbbed  audibly  ;  my  breathing  was  short  and  interrupted. 
A  world's  weight  seemed  to  lie  upon  my  chest;  my  lips  swelled 
and  burst ;  the  capillary  vessels  of  my  eyelids  gave  way,  and 
blood  flowed  from  them.  In  a  few  moments  my  senses  began 
to  leave  me.  I  could  neither  see,  hear,  nor  feel  distinctly.  A 
grey  mist  floated  before  my  eyes,  and  I  felt  myself  involved  in 
that  struggle  between  life  and  death  which,  a  short  time  before, 
I  fancied  I  could  discern  on  the  face  of  nature.  Had  all  the  riches 
of  earth,  or  the  glories  of  heaven,  awaited  me  a  hundred  feet 
higher,  I  could  not  have  stretched  out  my  hand  towards  them. 

In  this  half  senseless  state  I  lay  stretched  on  the  ground,  until 
I  felt  sufficiently  recovered  to  remount  my  mule.  One  of  the 
Puna  storms  was  now  gathering,  thunder  and  lightning  accom- 
panied a  heavy  fall  of  snow,  which  very  soon  lay  a  foot  deep 
on  the  ground.  In  a  short  time  I  discovered  that  I  had  missed 
my  way.  Had  I  then  known  the  Puna  as  well  as  I  afterwards 
did,  I  should  have  shaped  my  course  by  the  flight  of  birds.  But 
unluckily  I  pursued  the  fresh  track  of  a  herd  of  vicunas,  which 
led  me  directly  into  a  swamp.  My  mule  sank,  and  was  unable 
to  extricate  himself.  I  was  almost  in  despair.  Nevertheless,  I 
cautiously  alighted,  and  with  incredible  difficulty  I  succeeded  in 
digging  out  with  a  dagger  the  mud  in  which  the  animal's  legs 
were  firmly  fixed,  and  at  length  I  got  him  back  to  a  solid  footing. 
After  wandering  about  in  various  directions,  I  at  length  reco- 
vered the  right  path,  which  was  marked  by  numerous  skeletons 
protruding  above  the  snow.  These  were  the  remains  of  beasts 
of  burthen,  which  had  perished  on  their  journeys ;  a  welcome, 
though  an  ominous  guide  to  the  wandering  traveller.  The 
clouds  now  suddenly  separated,  and  the  blazing  light  of  the  tropi- 
cal sun  glared  dazzlingly  on  the  white  plain  of  snow.  In  a 
moment  I  felt  my  eyes  stricken  with  surumpe. 

Suffering  the  most  violent  pain,  and  tormented  by  the  appre- 


I 

A  NIGHT'S  LODGING  IN  A  CAVE.  251 

hension  of  blindness,  I  with  great  difficulty  pursued  my  way. 
My  mule  could  scarcely  wade  through  the  sward,  which  was 
becoming  more  and  more  thick  j  and  night  was  advancing.  I 
had  lost  all  feeling  in  my  feet,  my  benumbed  fingers  could 
scarcely  hold  the  bridle,  and  I  well  knew  that  the  nearest  point 
at  which  I  could  obtain  the  shelter  of  a  human  habitation  was 
eight  German  miles  distant.  I  was  beginning  to  give  myself  up 
for  lost,  when  I  observed  a  cave  beneath  an  overhanging  rock. 
Mother  Nature,  in  whose  service  I  had  undertaken  my  long  and 
perilous  wanderings,  at  that  critical  juncture,  provided  for  me  a 
retreat,  though  in  one  of  her  rudest  sheltering  places.  I  entered 
the  cave,  which  protected  me  securely  against  the  wind  and  the 
snow.  Having  unsaddled  my  mule,  I  made  a  bed  of  my  saddle 
clothes  and  poncho.  I  tied  the  animal  to  a  stone,  and  whilst  he 
eagerly  regaled  himself  with  the  little  grass  that  was  not  buried 
beneath  the  snow,  I  satisfied  my  hunger  with  some  roasted  maize 
and  cheese. 

Exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  the  day,  I  lay  down  to  sleep ;  but 
no  sooner  had  I  fallen  into  a  slumber,  than  I  was  awaked  by  a 
violent  smarting  in  my  eyes,  occasioned  by  the  surumpe.  There 
was  no  longer  any  hope  of  sleep.  The  night  seemed  endless. 
When  the  dawn  of  morning  appeared,  I  made  an  effort  to  open 
my  eyes,  which  were  closed  with  coagulated  blood.  On  look- 
ing around  me  I  beheld  all  the  horror  of  my  situation.  A  hu- 
man corpse  had  served  for  my  pillow.  Shuddering  I  went  in 
search  of  my  mule,  for  I  was  eager  to  hurry  from  this  dismal 
spot ;  but  my  misery  was  not  yet  at  an  end.  The  poor  beast 
lay  dead  on  the  ground ;  in  his  ravenous  hunger  he  had  eaten 
of  the  poisonous  garbancillo.  What  could  I  do !  In  despair  I 
turned  back  to  the  cave. 

The  sun  had  now  fully  risen,  and  his  genial  rays  diffused 
warmth  over  this  frozen  region.  Somewhat  roused  by  the  re- 
viving light  and  life  around  me,  I  began  to  examine  the  body  of 
my  lifeless  companion.  Haply,  thought  I,  he  may  be  one  of  my 
own  race ;  a  traveller  who  has  perished  of  cold  and  hunger. 
No.  He  was  a  half-caste  Indian,  and  many  deadly  wounds  on 
his  head  showed  that  he  had  died  of  the  slings  of  Indian  robbers, 


252  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


who  had  stripped  him  even  of  his  clothes,  and  concealed  the  body 
in  the  cave. 

I  seized  my  gun  and  shot  a  rock  rabbit,  then  collecting  some 
fuel,  I  kindled  a  fire,  and  roasted  the  little  animal,  which  af- 
forded me  a  no  very  savory  breakfast.  I  then  waited  patiently 
in  the  hope  that  some  timely  help  would  deliver  me  from  my 
dreary  situation. 

It  was  about  noon.  I  heard  a  monotonous  short  cry.  With 
joy  I  recognized  the  well-known  sound.  I  climbed  up  the  near- 
est rock,  and  looking  down  into  a  hollow,  I  perceived  two  In- 
dians whom  I  had  seen  the  day  before,  driving  their  llamas  to 
the  nearest  mine  works.  I  prevailed  on  them,  by  the  gift  of  a 
little  tobacco,  to  let  me  have  one  of  their  llamas  to  carry  my 
luggage,  and  having  strewed  a  few  handfuls  of  earth  on  the 
corpse  of  the  murdered  man,  I  departed.  The  scene  of  the  in- 
cidents above  described  was  the  Cave  of  Lefias,  in  the  Altos 
which  lead  southward  to  the  Quebrada  of  Huaitara. 


THE  SIERRA.  253 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Sierra — Its  Climate  and  Productions — Inhabitants — Trade — Eggs  cir- 
culated as  money — Mestizos  in  the  Sierra — Their  Idleness  and  Love  of 
Gaming  and  Betting — Agriculture — The  Quinua  Plant,  a  substitute  for 
Potatoes — Growth  of  Vegetables  and  Fruits  in  the  Sierra — Rural  Festi- 
vals at  the  Seasons  of  Sowing  and  Reaping — Skill  of  the  Indians  in  various 
Handicrafts — Excess  of  Brandy-Drinking — Chicha — Disgusting  mode  of 
making  it — Festivals  of  Saints — Dances  and  Bull-Fights — Celebration  of 
Christmas-Day,  New- Year's  Day,  Palm  Sunday,  and  Good  Friday — 
Contributions  levied  on  the  Indians — Tardy  and  Irregular  Transmission 
of  Letters — Trade  in  Mules — General  Style  of  Building  in  the  Towns 
and  Villages  of  the  Sierra — Ceja  de  la  Montana. 

THE  Peruvian  highlands,  or  level  heights,  described  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter  under  the  designation  of  the  Puna,  are  intersected 
by  numerous  valleys  situated  several  thousand  feet  lower  than 
the  level  heights,  from  which  they  totally  differ  in  character  and 
aspect.  These  valleys  are  called  the  Sierra.  The  inhabitants 
of  Lima  usually  comprehend  under  the  term  Sierra,  the  whole 
interior  of  Peru,  and  every  Indian  who  is  not  an  inhabitant  of  the 
coast,  or  of  the  forest  regions,  is  called  by  them  a  Serrano.  But 
strictly  speaking,  the  Sierra  includes  only  the  valleys  between 
the  Cordillera  and  the  Andes,  and  I  shall  here  use  the  term  in  its 
more  limited  and  proper  sense. 

In  the  Sierra  there  are  only  two  seasons  throughout  the  year. 
The  winter  or  rainy  season  commences  in  October;  but  the 
rains  are  neither  so  heavy  nor  so  continuous  as  in  the  forest  dis- 
tricts. The  falls  of  rain  seldom  last  longer  than  two  or  three 
days  in  succession.  Storms  of  thunder  and  lightning  are  very 
frequent  in  the  Sierra ;  they  are  not  accompanied  by  snow  as  in 
the  Puna,  but  often  by  hail.  The  thermometer  never  falls 
below  +  4°  R.,  and  during  the  daytime  it  is  on  the  average  at  + 
11°  R.  In  April  the  summer  season  sets  in,  bringing  with  it  an 


254  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


uninterrupted  succession  of  warm  bright  days.  The  nights  in 
summer  are  colder  than  in  winter.  In  a  summer  night  the 
thermometer  will  sometimes  fall  below  freezing  point,  and  the 
cold  is  often  very  severe.  About  noon  the  heat  is  oppressive, 
though  the  average  heat  of  the  day  does  not  exceed  13,  9°  R. 
During  the  summer  season  the  horizon  is  frequently  obscured  by 
heavy  dark  clouds,  which  seldom  break  over  the  valleys,  but 
continue  frowning  over  the  hills.  The  natives  call  these  porten- 
tous clouds  Misti  Manchari  (terror  of  the  whites),*  because  the 
inhabitants  of  the  coast  always  regard  them  as  indicative  of 
stormy  weather. 

The  climate  of  the  Sierra  favors  the  natural  fruitfulness  of  the 
soil,  which  richly  repays  the  labor  of  the  husbandman  ;  but 
plants,  peculiar  to  the  warm  tropical  regions,  do  not  thrive  well 
here.  Prior  to  the  European  emigration  to  Peru,  only  maize, 
quinua  (Chenopodium  Quinoa,  L.),  and  a  few  tuberous  roots  were 
grown  in  the  Sierra ;  but  since  the  Spanish  conquest,  the  Euro- 
pean cereals,  lucerne,  and  various  kinds  of  vegetables  are  culti- 
vated with  perfect  success.  But  the  eye  of  the  traveller  seeks 
in  vain  for  those  stately  forests  which  clothe  the  mountainous 
districts  of  Europe ;  the  barren  acclivities  afford  nurture  only 
for  the  agave-tree,  and  some  very  large  species  of  cactus. 
Groups  of  willow  trees  (Salix  Humboldtii},  which  attain  the 
height  of  about  twenty  or  twenty-five  feet,  together  with  the 
quinua-tree,  form  here  and  there  little  thickets  on  the  banks  of 
rivers. 

These  regions,  so  favored  by  nature,  have  from  the  earliest 
period  been  the  chosen  dwelling-places  of  the  Peruvians  ;  and 
therefore  in  the  Sierra,  which,  measured  by  its  superficies,  is  not 
of  very  great  extent,  the  population  has  increased  more  than  in 
any  other  part  of  Peru.  The  valleys  already  contain  numerous 
towns,  villages,  and  hamlets,  which  would  rise  in  importance, 
if  they  had  greater  facility  of  communication  one  with  another. 
But  they  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  mountains,  which  can 
be  crossed  only  by  circuitous  and  dangerous  routes.  The  few 

*  The  Indians  apply  the  designation  Misti,  meaning  Mestizo,  to  all 
persons  except  Indians  or  Negroes,  whether  they  be  Europeans  or  White 
Creoles. 


TRADE.  255 


accessible  pathways  are  alternately  up  rugged  ascents,  and 
down  steep  declivities  ;  or  winding  through  narrow  ravines, 
nearly  choked  up  by  broken  fragments  of  rock,  they  lead  to  the 
dreary  and  barren  level  heights. 

The  Serranos,  or  inhabitants  of  the  Sierra,  especially  those 
who  dwell  in  the  smaller  villages,  are  chiefly  Indians.  In  the 
towns  and  larger  villages,  the  mestizos  are  numerous.  The 
whites  are  very  thinly  scattered  over  the  Sierra  ;  but  many  of 
the  mestizos  are  very  anxious  to  be  thought  white  Creoles.  A 
rich  serrano,  who  bears  in  his  features  the  stamp  of  his  Indian 
descent,  will  frequently  try  to  pass  himself  off  to  a  foreigner  for 
an  old  Spaniard.  Here,  even  more  than  on  the  coast,  the 
mestizo  is  ambitious  to  rank  himself  on  a  level  with  the  white, 
whilst  he  affects  to  regard  the  Indian  as  an  inferior  being. 

The  few  Spaniards  who  reside  in  the  Sierra  are  men  who  have 
served  in  the  Spanish  army,  and  who,  at  the  close  of  the  war  of 
independence,  settled  in  that  part  of  Peru.  Many  of  them  keep 
shops  in  the  towns  and  villages,  and  others,  by  advantageous 
marriages,  have  become  the  possessors  of  haciendas.  Those 
who  have  enriched  themselves  in  this  way  are  remarkable  alike 
for  ignorance  and  pride,  and  give  themselves  the  most  ludicrous 
airs  of  assumed  dignity.  The  Creoles  are  the  principal  dealers 
in  articles  of  European  commerce.  They  journey  to  Lima 
twice  or  thrice  a  year  to  make  their  purchases,  which  consist  in 
white  antl  printed  calicoes,  woollen  cloths,  hard-wares,  leather, 
soap,  wax,  and  indigo.  In  the  Sierra,  indigo  is  a  very  considera- 
ble article  of  traffic  :  the  Indians  use  a  great  quantity  of  it  for 
dyeing  their  clothes ;  blue  being  their  favorite  color.  Wax  is 
also  in  great  demand  ;  for  in  the  religious  ceremonies,  which  are 
almost  of  daily  occurrence,  a  vast  quantity  of  tapers  is  con- 
sumed. The  principal  articles  of  traffic  produced  by  the 
natives  are  woollen  ponchos  and  blankets,  unspun  colored  wool, 
saddle-cloths,  stirrups  and  horseshoes.  The  last-named  articles 
are  purchased  chiefly  by  the  arrieros  of  the  coast.  It  may 
seem  strange  that  stores  of  horseshoes  should  be  kept  ready 
made  ;  but  so  it  is  ;  for  though  in  Europe  we  make  the  shoe  to 
fit  the  hoof,  yet  in  Peru  it  is  the  practice  to  cut  the  hoof  to  fit  the 
shoe.  On  Yea  brandy  more  money  is  expended  than  on  every 


256  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


other  article  of  trade  combined.  The  quantity  of  that  spirit 
annually  transported  to  the  Sierra  exceeds  belief.  To  see  the 
Indians  on  Sundays  and  festival  days  thronging  to  the  shops  of 
the  spirit  dealers,  with  their  jugs  and  bottles,  one  might  fairly 
presume  that  more  brandy  is  drunk  in  the  Sierra  in  one  day, 
than  in  many  of  the  towns  of  Europe  in  a  year.  In  some  parts 
— for  example,  in  the  province  of  Jauja — hens'  eggs  are  circu- 
lated as  small  coin,  forty-eight  or  fifty  being  counted  for  a 
dollar.  In  the  market-place  and  in  the  shops  the  Indians  make 
most  of  their  purchases  with  this  brittle  sort  of  money  :  one  will 
give  two  or  three  eggs  for  brandy,  another  for  indigo,  and  a  third 
for  cigars.  These  eggs  are  packed  in  boxes  by  the  shop-keepers, 
and  sent  to  Lima.  From  Jauja  alone,  several  thousand  loads  of 
eggs  are  annually  forwarded  to  the  capital. 

Most  of  the  mestizos  possess  little  estates  (chacras),  the  produce 
of  which,  consisting  of  grain,  vegetables  and  clover,  is  disposed 
of  in  the  towns  of  the  Sierra,  or  in  the  mining  districts  of  the 
Puna.  As  the  profits  arising  from  the  chacras  usually  suffice 
to  provide  their  owners  with  a  comfortable  subsistence,  the 
mestizos  pass  their  lives  in  idleness  and  pleasure.  They  spend 
the  chief  portion  of  the  day  in  the  true  Spanish  style,  gossiping 
in  groups  in  the  streets,  and  wrapped  in  their  mantles.  When 
the  state  of  the  weather  does  not  admit  of  this  sort  of  out-door 
lounging  the  time  is  passed  in  gaming  or  cock-fighting.  This 
latter  diversion  is  no  less  in  favor  in  the  Sierra  than  in  Lima. 
Such  enormous  bets  are  laid  at  these  cock-fights,  that  the  losses 
frequently  entail  ruin  on  persons  of  tolerably  good  fortune. 

The  agriculture  of  the  Sierra  is  wholly  consigned  to  the  In- 
dians, who  either  cultivate  their  own  lands,  or  for  very  poor 
wages  labor  for  the  mestizos.  In  September,  the  ground  is 
ploughed  and  prepared  for  sowing,  which  operation  is  performed 
in  October,  and  the  reaping  takes  place  in  April  or  May.  By 
this  means  the  seed  is  left  in  the  ground  throughout  all  the  rainy 
season.  In  February  violent  frost  frequently  comes  on  during 
the  night,  by  which  the  seed  is  so  much  injured  that  the  harvest 
fails,  and  the  scarcity  occasions  severe  suffering  and  even  famine. 
When  the  cold  clear  nights  create  apprehensions  of  damage  to 
the  seed,  the  people  form  themselves  into  processions,  and  go 


THE  QUINUA  PLANT.  257 


through  the  villages  and  towns  imploring  the  mercy  of  Heaven. 
In  the  dead  of  the  night  it  is  no  unusual  thing  to  be  aroused  by 
the  ringing  of  bells.  The  inhabitants  then  get  up  and  hurry  to 
church,  where  the  solemn  processions  are  formed.  Penitents 
clothed  in  sackcloth  go  through  the  streets,  scourging  themselves ; 
and  the  Indians,  in  their  native  language,  utter  prayers  and  offer 
up  vows  to  Heaven.  For  the  space  of  some  hours  an  incessant 
movement  and  agitation  pervade  the  streets,  and  when  day  begins 
to  dawn  the  people  return  to  their  homes,  trembling  between  hope 
and  fear.  The  fate  of  the  Indians,  when  their  harvest  fails 
them,  is  indeed  truly  miserable,  for,  abstemious  as  they  are,  they 
can  scarcely  procure  wherewith  to  satisfy  their  hunger.  In  the 
year  1840,  which  was  a  period  of  scarcity,  I  saw  the  starving 
Indian  children  roaming  about  the  fields,  and  eating  the  grass 
like  cattle. 

Maize  is  the  species  of  grain  most  extensively  cultivated  in 
the  Sierra  :  it  is  of  excellent  quality,  though  smaller  than  that 
grown  on  the  coast.  Wheat,  though  it  thrives  well,  is  cultivated 
only  in  a  very  limited  quantity,  and  the  bread  made  from  it  is 
exceedingly  bad.  The  other  species  of  European  grain,  barley 
excepted,  are  unknown  to  the  Serranos.  To  compensate  for  the 
want  of  them,  they  have  the  quinua  (Chenopodium  Quinoa,  L.), 
which  is  at  once  a  nutritious,  wholesome,  and  pleasant  article  of 
food.  The  leaves  of  this  plant,  before  it  attains  full  maturity, 
are  eaten  like  spinach  ;  but  it  is  the  seeds  which  are  most  gene- 
rally used  as  food.  They  are  prepared  in  a  variety  of  ways,  but 
most  frequently  boiled  in  milk  or  in  broth,  and  sometimes  cooked 
with  cheese  and  Spanish  pepper.  The  dried  stems  of  the  quinua 
are  used  as  fuel.  Experiments  in  the  cultivation  of  this  plant 
have  been  tried  in  some  parts  of  Germany,  and  with  considerable 
success.  It  would  appear,  however,  that  its  flavor  is  not  much 
liked  ;  a  circumstance  rather  surprising  to  the  traveller  who  has 
tasted  it  in  Peru,  where  it  is  regarded  in  the  light  of  a  delicacy. 
It  were  to  be  wished  that  the  general  cultivation  of  the  quinua 
could  be  introduced  throughout  Europe  ;  for  during  the  preva- 
lence of  the  potatoe  disease  this  plant  would  be  found  of  the 
greatest  utility.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  potatoes  and  tea,  two 
articles  now  in  such  universal  use,  were  not  liked  on  their  first 


258  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


introduction  into  Europe.  The  quinua  plant,  which  yields  a 
wholesome  article  of  food,  would  thrive  perfectly  in  our  hemi- 
sphere, and,  though  in  its  hitherto  limited  trial  it  has  not  found 
favor,  there  is  no  reason  to  conclude  that  it  may  not  at  a  future 
time  become  an  object  of  general  consumption. 

Four  kinds  of  tuberous  plants  are  successfully  cultivated  in 
the  Sierra ;  viz.,  the  potatoe,  the  ulluco,  the  oca,  and  the  mashua. 
Of  potatoes  there  are  several  varieties,  and  all  grow  in  perfection. 
The  ulluco  (Trop&olum  tuberosum)  is  smaller  than  the  potatoe, 
and  is  very  various  in  its  form,  being  either  round,  oblong, 
straight,  or  curved.  The  skin  is  thin,  and  of  a  reddish-yellow 
color,  and  the  inside  is  green.  When  simply  boiled  in  water  it 
is  insipid,  but  is  very  savory  when  cooked  as  a  picante.  The  oca 
(Oxalis  tuberosa)  is  an  oval-shaped  root;  the  skin  pale  red,  and 
the  inside  white.  It  is  watery,  and  has  a  sweetish  taste  ;  for 
which  reason  it  is  much  liked  by  the  Peruvians.  The  mashua 
is  the  root  of  a  plant  as  yet  unknown  to  botanists.  It  is  cultivat- 
ed and  cooked  in  the  same  manner  as  those  already  described. 
In  form,  however,  it  differs  from  them  all.  It  is  of  a  flat  pyra- 
midal shape,  and  the  lower  end  terminates  in  a  fibrous  point.  It 
is  watery,  and  insipid  to  the  taste  ;  but  is  nevertheless  much 
eaten  by  the  Serranos.  As  the  mashua  roots  will  not  keep,  they 
are  not  transported  from  the  places  in  which  they  are  grown, 
and,  therefore,  are  not  known  in  Lima.  The  Indians  use  the 
mashua  as  a  medicine  :  they  consider  it  an  efficacious  remedy  in 
cases  of  dropsy,  indigestion,  and  dysentery. 

The  vegetables  and  fruits  of  Europe  thrive  luxuriantly  in  the 
warm  Sierra  valleys  ;  yet  but  few  of  them  have  been  trans- 
planted thither,  and  those  few  are  but  little  esteemed.  Some  of 
the  cabbage  and  salad  species,  together  with  onions,  garlic,  and 
several  kinds  of  pulse,  are  all  that  are  cultivated.  It  is  remark- 
able that  in  these  regions  no  indigenous  fruit-trees  are  to  be  seen. 
The  only  fruit  really  belonging  to  the  Sierra  is  the  Tuna.  In 
some  of  the  sheltered  ravines,  or,  as  they  are  called,  Quebradas, 
oranges,  lemons,  and  granadillas  flourish  at  the  height  of  10,000 
feet  above  sea  level.  The  fruits  which  have  been  transplanted 
from  Europe  are  for  the  most  part  indifferent,  as  not  the  least 
care  is  bestowed  on  their  cultivation.  The  effect  of  this  neglect 


SKILL  OF  THE  INDIANS  OF  THE  SIERRA.  259 

is  particularly  obvious  in  apples,  pears,  and  damson-plums. 
Cherries  and  chestnuts  are  unknown  in  these  parts ;  but  on  the 
other  hand,  peaches  and  apricots  (duraznos)  grow  in  amazing 
abundance,  and  many  very  fine  species  are  found,  especially  in 
the  southern  provinces.  Excursions  to  the  duraznales  (apricot 
gardens),  in  the  months  of  April  and  May,  to  eat  the  ripe  fruit 
fresh  plucked  from  the  trees,  are  among  the  most  favorite  recre- 
ations of  the  Serranos.  Some  of  the  Sierra  districts  are  celebrated 
throughout  Peru  for  their  abundance  of  fruit.  This  luxuriance 
is  particularly  remarkable  in  several  of  the  deep  valleys,  for  in- 
stance, in  Huanta;  but,  strictly  speaking,  these  deep  valleys 
partake  less  of  the  character  of  the  Sierra  than  of  the  higher 
forest  regions. 

The  periods  of  sowing  and  reaping  are  celebrated  by  the  Indi- 
ans with  merry-making,  a  custom  which  has  descended  from  the 
time  of  the  Incas,  when  those  periods  corresponded  with  the  two 
great  divisions  of  the  year.  Even  a  scanty  harvest,  an  event  of 
frequent  occurrence,  occasions  no  interruption  to  these  rustic 
festivals.  Bands  of  music,  consisting  of  trumpets,  fiddles,  and 
flutes,  play  whilst  the  corn  is  cut  down,  and  during  their  work, 
the  laborers  freely  regale  themselves  with  chicha,  huge  barrels 
of  which  are  placed  for  their  unrestrained  use.  The  consequence 
is,  that  they  are  almost  continually  intoxicated  ;  and  yet  whilst 
in  this  state  it  is  no  unusual  thing  to  see  them  dancing  with  heavy 
loads  of  sheaves  on  their  heads.  Their  dinner  is  cooked  in  the 
fields,  in  large  pots  and  kettles,  and  to  partake  of  it  they  all  sit 
down  on  the  ground  in  rows,  one  behind  another.  The  wheat 
and  barley  when  cut  are  spread  out  in  little  heaps  on  the  ground, 
and,  instead  of  thrashing,  the  grain  is  pressed  out  of  the  ears  by 
the  tramping  of  horses,  the  animals  being  driven  round  and  round 
in  a  circle.  As  soon  as  this  process  is  ended,  the  agents  of  the 
Government  and  the  priests  make  their  appearance  to  claim  the 
tithes. 

In  the  larger  villages  and  towns  of  the  Sierra,  the  Indians 
frequently  employ  themselves  in  handicrafts,  in  some  of  which 
they  attain  a  high  degree  of  perfection,  for  they  are  not  wanting 
either  in  talent  or  in  mechanical  dexterity.  As  goldsmiths  they  are 
remarkably  skilful,  and  in  this  branch  of  industry  they  produce 


260  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


work  which,  for  taste  and  exquisite  finish,  cannot  be  excelled  in 
the  capitals  of  Europe.  The  various  kinds  of  vessels  and  figures 
of  silver  wire  (Jiligranas),  made  by  the  cholos  in  Ayacucho,  have 
always  been  favorite  articles  of  ornament  in  Spain.  The  Indians 
of  Jauja  are  very  skilful  in  working  iron,  and  the  objects  of  their 
workmanship  are  much  esteemed  throughout  Peru.  Of  leather 
also  they  make  various  things  in  very  beautiful  style  ;  and  saddle- 
cloths, bridles,  &c.,  of  their  manufacture  are  much  more  elegant 
and  infinitely  cheaper  than  those  made  in  Lima.  In  Cuzco  and 
the  adjacent  provinces  many  of  the  Indians  evince  considerable 
talent  in  oil-painting.  Their  productions  in  this  way  are,  of 
course,  far  from  being  master-pieces ;  but  when  we  look  on  the 
paintings  which  decorate  their  churches,  and  reflect  that  the  art- 
ists have  been  shut  out  from  the  advantages  of  education  and 
study ;  and  moreover,  when  we  consider  the  coarse  materials 
with  which  the  pictures  have  been  painted,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged that  they  indicate  a  degree  of  talent,  which,  if  duly  culti- 
vated, would  soar  far  above  mediocrity.  In  Tarma  and  its 
neighborhood  the  natives  weave  an  exquisitely  fine  description  of 
woollen  cloth.  They  make  ponchos  of  vicuna  wool,  which  sell 
for  100  or  120  dollars  each,  and  which  are  equal  to  the  finest 
European  cloth.  The  beauty  of  these  Indian  textures  is  truly 
wonderful,  considering  the  rude  process  of  weaving  practised  by 
the  natives.  They  work  various  colors,  figures,  and  inscriptions 
in  the  cloth,  and  do  all  this  with  a  rapidity  which  equals  the 
operations  of  ordinary  looms.  The  most  valuable  textures  they 
weave  are  those  produced  from  the  wool  of  the  vicuna  and  the 
alpaco.  They  likewise  make  very  fine  textures  of  cotton  and 
silk.  It  is  curious  that  the  Indians  of  each  province  have  some 
particular  branch  of  industry  to  which  they  exclusively  apply 
themselves,  to  the  neglect  of  all  others. 

The  Serranos  are  a  very  sociable  people.  In  the  towns  they 
keep  up  a  continual  round  of  evening  parties,  in  which  singing 
and  dancing  are  favorite  amusements ;  but  on  these  occasions 
they  indulge  in  brandy-drinking  to  a  terrible  excess.  As  soon  as 
a  party  is  assembled,  bottles  and  .glasses  are  introduced,  and  each 
individual,  ladies  as  well  as  gentlemen,  drinks  to  the  health  of 
the  company.  For  a  party  of  thirty  or  more  persons,  not  more 


CHICHA  MASCADA.  261 


than  three  or  four  glasses  are  brought  in,  so  that  one  glass  is 
passed  repeatedly  from  hand  to  hand,  and  from  mouth  to  mouth. 
The  quantity  of  brandy  drunk  at  one  of  the  evening  parties  called 
in  the  Sierra  Jaranas,  is  almost  incredible.  According  to  my 
observation,  I  should  say  that  a  bottle  to  each  individual,  ladies 
included,  is  a  fair  average  estimate,  the  bottles  being  of  the  size 
of  those  used  in  Europe  for  claret.  In  the  year  1839,  whilst  I 
was  residing  for  a  time  in  one  of  the  largest  towns  of  the  Sierra, 
a  ball  was  given  in  honor  of  the  Chilian  General  Bulnes ;  on  that 
occasion  the  brandy  flowed  in  such  quantities,  that,  when  morn- 
ing came,  some  members  of  the  company  were  found  lying  on 
the  floor  of  the  ball-room  in  a  state  of  intoxication.  These  facts 
naturally  create  an  impression  very  unfavorable  to  the  inhabit- 
ants  of  the  Sierra  ;  but  a  due  allowance  must  be  made  for  the 
want  of  education  and  the  force  of  habit  on  the  part  of  those  who 
fall  into  these  excesses.  These  people  possess  so  many  excellent 
moral  qualities,  that  it  would  be  unjust  to  condemn  them  solely 
on  account  of  these  orgies.  The  Serrano  is  far  from  being  ad- 
dicted to  habitual  drunkenness,  notwithstanding  his  intemperate 
use  of  strong  drinks  amidst  the  excitement  of  company. 

But  if  the  vice  of  excessive  drinking  be  occasionally  indulged 
in  among  the  better  class  of  people  of  the  Sierra,  it  is  much  more 
frequent  among  the  Indian  inhabitants.  Every  one  of  their 
often-recurring  festivals  is  celebrated  by  a  drinking  bout,  at 
which  enormous  quantities  of  brandy  and  chicha  are  consumed. 
In  some  districts  of  the  Sierra  the  chicha  is  prepared  in  a  peculiar 
and  very  disgusting  manner  by  the  Indians.  Instead  of  crushing 
the  jora  (dried  maize-grain)  between  two  stones,  which  is  the 
usual  method,  the  Indians  bruise  it  with  their  teeth.  For  this 
purpose  a  group  of  men  and  women  range  themselves  in  a  circle 
round  a  heap  of  jora  ;  each  gathers  up  a  handful,  chews  it,  and 
then  ejects  it  from  the  mouth  into  a  vessel  allotted  for  its  recep- 
tion. This  mass,  after  being  boiled  in  water,  and  left  to  ferment, 
is  the  much  admired  chicha  mascada  (that  is  to  say,  chewed  chicha'), 
the  flavor  of  which  is  said  to  surpass  that  of  the  same  beverage 
made  in  any  other  way.  But  they  who  have  been  eye-witnesses 
of  the  disgusting  process,  and  who  bear  in  mind  various  other 
preparations  of  Indian  cookery  in  which  the  teeth  perform  a 


262  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


part,  require  some  fortitude  ere  they  yield  to  the  pressing  invita- 
tion of  the  hospitable  Serrano,  and  taste  the  proffered  nectar. 

When  it  is  wished  to  make  the  chicha  particularly  strong  and 
well  flavored,  it  is  poured  into  an  earthen  jar  along  with  several 
pounds  of  beef.  This  jar  is  made  perfectly  air-tight,  and  buried 
several  feet  deep  in  the  ground,  where  it  is  left  for  the  space  of 
several  years.  On  the  birth  of  a  child  it  is  customary  to  bury  a 
botija  full  of  chicha,  which,  on  the  marriage  of  the  same  child,  is 
opened  and  drunk.  This  chicha  has  a  very  agreeable  flavor,  but 
is  so  exceedingly  potent,  that  a  single  glass  of  it  is  sufficient  to 
intoxicate  a  practised  chicha -drinker,  or,  as  they  say  in  the  coun- 
try, a  cliichero. 

Every  village  in  the  Sierra  has  its  own  tutelary  saint,  whose 
festival  is  celebrated  with  great  solemnity.  Bull-fights  and 
dances  constitute  the  principal  diversions  on  these  occasions. 
These  dances  are  relics  of  the  Raymi  or  monthly  dances,  by 
which  the  Incas  used  to  mark  the  divisions  of  time  ;  and  they 
are  among  the  most  interesting  customs  peculiar  to  these  parts  of 
Peru.  The  dancers  wear  dresses  similar  to  those  worn  by  the 
ancient  Peruvians  when  they  took  part  in  the  Raymi.  Their 
faces  and  arms  are  painted  in  various  colors,  and  they  wear 
feather  caps  and  feather  ponchos.  They  have  bracelets  and 
anklets,  and  they  are  armed  with  clubs,  wooden  swords,  and 
bows  and  arrows.  Their  music,  too,  is  also  similar  to  that  of 
their  forefathers.  Their  instruments  consist  of  a  sort  of  pipe  or 
flute  made  of  reed,  and  a  drum  composed  simply  of  a  hoop  with 
a  skin  stretched  upon  it.  To  the  inharmonious  sound  of  these 
instruments,  accompanying  monotonous  Quichua  songs,  the  dances 
commence  with  those  solemn  movements  with  which  the  Incas 
used  to  worship  the  sun :  they  then  suddenly  assume  a  more 
joyous  character,  and  at  last  change  to  the  wild  war-dance,  in 
which  the  mimic  contest,  stimulated  by  copious  libations  of  chi- 
cha, frequently  ends  in  a  real  fight.  In  the  larger  towns,  where 
the  Mestizo  portion  of  the  population  predominates,  these  dances 
are  discouraged,  and  in  course  of  time  they  will  probably  be  en- 
tirely discontinued,  though  they  are  scrupulously  adhered  to  by 
the  Indians. 

On  festival  days,  bull-fights  constitute  the  most  favorite  popu- 


AMUSEMENTS  AND  FESTIVALS.  263 

lar  diversion.  In  the  Sierra  this  barbarous  sport  is  conducted 
with  even  more  recklessness  and  cruelty  than  in  the  Corridas  of 
Lima.  Every  occasion  on  which  an  entertainment  of  this  sort 
takes  place  is  attended  with  loss  of  life,  and  sometimes  the  sacri- 
fice both  of  men  and  horses  is  very  considerable.  During  my 
residence  in  Jauja,  fourteen  Indians  and  nineteen  horses  were 
killed  or  seriously  wounded  in  a  bull-fight ;  yet  catastrophes  of 
this  kind  appear  to  make  no  impression  on  the  people. 

Some  of  the  church  festivals  are  celebrated  by  the  Indians  of 
the  Sierra,  in  a  manner  which  imparts  a  peculiar  coloring  to  the 
religious  solemnities.  In  the  midnight  mass  on  Christmas  Eve, 
they  imitate  in  the  churches  the  sounds  made  by  various  animals. 
The  singing  of  birds,  the  crowing  of  cocks,  the  braying  of  asses, 
the  bleating  of  sheep,  &c.,  are  simulated  so  perfectly,  that  a 
stranger  is  inclined  to  believe  that  the  animals  have  assembled 
in  the  temple  to  participate  in  the  solemnity.  At  the  termination 
of  the  mass,  troops  of  women  perambulate  the  streets,  during  the 
remainder  of  the  night.  Their  long  black  hair  flows  loosely 
over  their  bare  shoulders  ;  and  in  their  hands  they  carry  poles 
with  long  fluttering  strips  of  paper  fixed  to  the  ends  of  them. 
They  occasionally  dance  and  sing  peculiarly  beautiful  melodies, 
accompanied  by  a  harp,  a  fifldle,  and  a  flute ;  and  they  mark  the 
measure  of  the  music  by  the  movement  of  their  poles. 

The  celebration  of  Christmas-day  is  marked  by  the  appear- 
ance of  what  are  termed  the  Negritos.  These  are  Indians,  with 
their  faces  concealed  by  hideous  negro  masks.  Their  dress  con- 
sists of  a  loose  red  robe,  richly  wrought  with  gold  and  silver 
thread,  white  pantaloons,  and  their  hats  are  adorned  with  waving 
black  feathers.  In  their  hands  they  carry  gourd  bottles,  painted 
in  various  gay  colors,  and  containing  dried  seeds.  Whilst  they 
sing,  the  Negritos  shake  these  gourds,  and  mark  the  time  by  the 
rattling  of  the  dried  seeds.  They  perform  the  dances  of  the 
Guinea  negroes,  and  imitate  the  attitudes  and  language  of  a  race 
which  they  hold  in  abhorrence  and  contempt.  For  the  space  of 
three  days  and  nights  these  negritos  parade  the  streets,  entering 
the  houses  and  demanding  chicha  and  brandy,  with  which  the 
inhabitants  are  glad  to  supply  them,  to  avoid  violence  and  insult. 

On  New  Year's  Day  other  groups  of  mummers,  called  Corco- 


264  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


fiados,  perambulate  the  streets.  They  are  enveloped  in  cloaks 
of  coarse  grey  woollen  cloth,  their  head-gear  consists  of  an  old 
vicuna  hat,  with  a  horse's  tail  dangling  behind.  Their  features 
are  disguised  by  ludicrous  masks  with  long  beards ;  and,  bestrid- 
ing long  sticks  or  poles,  they  move  about  accompanied  by  bur- 
lesque music.  Every  remarkable  incident  that  has  occurred  in 
the  families  of  the  town  during  the  course  of  the  year,  is  made 
the  subject  of  a  song  in  the  Quichua  language ;  and  these  songs 
are  sung  in  the  streets  by  the  Corcobados.  Matrimonial  quarrels 
are  favorite  subjects,  and  are  always  painted  with  high  comic 
effect  in  these  satirical  songs.  The  Corcobados  go  about  for  two 
days  ;  and  they  usually  wind  up  their  performances  by  drinking 
and  fighting.  When  two  groups  of  these  Corcobados  meet  to- 
gether, and  the  one  party  assails  with  ridicule  anything  which 
the  other  is  disposed  to  defend,  a  terrible  affray  usually  ensues, 
and  the  sticks  which  have  served  as  hobby-horses,  are  converted 
into  weapons  of  attack. 

In  order  to  facilitate  the  conversion  of  the  idolatrous  Indians, 
the  Spanish  monks  who  accompanied  Pizarro's  army,  sought  to 
render  the  Christian  religion  as  attractive  as  possible  in  the  eyes 
of  the  heathen  aborigines  of  Peru.  With  this  view  they  conceived 
the  idea  of  dramatizing  certain  scenes  in  the  life  of  Christ,  and 
having  them  represented  in  the  churches.  In  the  larger  towns 
these  performances  have  long  since  been  discontinued,  but  they 
are  still  kept  up  in  most  of  the  villages  of  the  Sierra ;  indeed  the 
efforts  made  by  enlightened  ecclesiastics  for  their  suppression, 
have  been  met  with  violent  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  Indians. 

On  Palm  Sunday,  an  image  of  the  Saviour  seated  on  an  ass  is 
paraded  about  the  principal  streets  of  the  town  or  village.  The 
Indians  strew  twigs  of  palm  over  the  animal,  and  contend  one 
with  another  for  the  honor  of  throwing  their  ponchos  down  on  the 
ground,  in  order  that  the  ass  may  walk  over  them.  The  animal 
employed  in  this  ceremony  is,  when  very  young,  singled  out  for 
the  purpose,  and  is  never  suffered  to  carry  any  burthen  save  the 
holy  image.  He  is  fed  by  the  people,  and  at  every  door  at  which 
he  stops,  the  inmates  of  the  house  pamper  him  up  with  the  best 
fodder  they  can  procure.  The  ass  is  looked  upon  as  something 
almost  sacred,  and  is  never  named  by  any  other  appellation  than 


SOLEMNIZATION  OF  GOOD  FRIDAY. 


the  Burro  de  Nuestro  Sehor  (our  Lord's  ass).  In  some  villages 
I  have  seen  these  animals  so  fat  that  they  were  scarcely  able  to 
walk. 

Good  Friday  is  solemnized  in  a  manner  the  effect  of  which,  to  the 
unprejudiced  foreigner,  is  partly  burlesque  and  partly  seriously 
impressive.  From  the  early  dawn  of  morning  the  church  is 
thronged  with  Indians,  who  spend  the  day  in  fasting  and  prayer. 
At  two  in  the  afternoon  a  large  image  of  the  Saviour  is  brought 
from  the  sacristy  and  laid  down  in  front  of  the  altar.  Immediately 
all  the  persons  in  the  church  rush  forward  with  pieces  of  cotton 
to  touch  the  wounds.  This  gives  rise  to  a  struggle,  in  which 
angry  words  and  blows  are  interchanged  ;  in  short,  there  ensues 
a  disgraceful  scene  of  uproar,  which  is  only  checked  by  the 
interposition  of  one  of  the  priests.  Order  being  restored,  the 
sacred  image  is  fixed  on  the  cross  by  three  very  large  silver 
nails,  and  the  head  is  encircled  by  a  rich  silver  crown.  On  each 
side,  are  the  crosses  of  the  two  thieves.  Having  gaped  at  this 
spectacle  to  their  hearts'  content,  the  cholos  retire  from  the 
church.  At  eight  in  the  evening  they  reassemble  to  witness  the 
solemn  ceremony  of  taking  down  the  Saviour  from  the  cross. 
The  church  is  then  brilliantly  lighted  up.  At .  the  foot  of  the 
cross  stand  four  white-robed  priests,  called  los  Santos  Varones 
(the  holy  men),  whose  office  it  is  to  take  down  the  image.  At  a 
little  distance  from  them,  on  a  sort  of  stage  or  platform,  stands  a 
figure  representing  the  Virgin  Mary.  This  figure  is  dressed  in 
black,  with  a  white  cap  on  its  head.  A  priest,  in  a  long  dis- 
course, explains  the  scene  to  the  assembled  people,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  address,  turning  to  the  Santos  Varones,  he  says,  "  Ye 
holy  men,  ascend  the  ladders  of  the  cross,  and  bring  down  the 
body  of  the  Redeemer  !"  Two  of  the  Santos  Varones  mount  with 
hammers  in  their  hands,  and  the  priest  then  says,  "  Ye  holy  man, 
on  the  right  of  the  Saviour,  strike  the  first  blow  on  the  nail  of  the 
hand,  and  take  it  out !"  The  command  is  obeyed,  and  no  sooner 
is  the  stroke  of  the  hammer  heard,  than  deep  groans  and  sounds 
of  anguish  resound  through  the  church ;  whilst  the  cry  of 
"  Misericordia  !  misericordia  f"  repeated  by  a  thousand  implor- 
ing voices,  produces  an  indescribable  sensation  of  awe  and 
melancholy.  The  nail  is  handed  to  one  of  the  priests  standing 
13 


206  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  who  transfers  it  to  another,  and  this  one 
in  his  turn  presents  it  to  the  figure  of  the  Virgin.  •  To  that  figure 
the  priest  then  turns  and  addresses  himself,  saying :  "  Thou 
afflicted  mother,  approach  and  receive  the  nail  which  pierced 
the  right  hand  of  thy  holy  Son  !"  The  priest  steps  forward  a 
few  paces,  and  the  figure,  by  some  concealed  mechanism,  advan- 
ces to  meet  him,  receives  the  nail  with  both  hands,  lays  it  on  a 
silver  plate,  dries  its  eyes,  and  then  returns  to  its  place  in  the 
middle  of  the  platform.  The  same  ceremony  is  repeated  when 
the  two  other  nails  are  taken  out.  Throughout  the  whole  per- 
formance of  these  solemnities,  an  uninterrupted  groaning  and 
howling  is  kept  up  by  the  Indians,  who  at  every  stroke  of  the 
hammer  raise  their  cries  of  Misericordia  /  These  sounds  of 
anguish  reach  their  climax  when  the  priest  consigns  the  body  of 
the  Saviour  to  the  charge  of  the  Virgin.  The  image  is  laid  in  a 
coffin  tastefully  adorned  with  flowers,  which,  together  with  the 
figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  is  paraded  through  the  streets.  Whilst 
this  nocturnal  procession,  lighted  by  thousands  of  wax  tapers?  is 
making  the  circuit  of  the  town,  a  party  of  Indians  busy  themselves 
in  erecting  before  the  church  door  twelve  arches  decorated  with 
flowers.  Between  every  two  of  the  arches  they  lay  flowers  on  the 
ground,  arranging  them  in  various  figures  and  designs.  These 
flower-carpets  are  singularly  ingenious  and  pretty.  Each  one  is 
the  work  of  two  cholos,  neither  of  whom  seems  to  bestow  any 
attention  to  what  his  comrade  is  doing ;  and  yet,  with  a  wonder- 
ful harmony  of  operation,  they  create  the  most  tasteful  designs — 
arabesques,  animals,  and  landscapes,  which  grow,  as  it  were  by 
magic,  under  their  hands.  Whilst  I  was  in  Tarma,  I  was  at 
once  interested  and  astonished  to  observe  on  one  of  these  flower- 
carpets  the  figure  of  the  Austrian  double  eagle.  On  inquiry  I 
learned  from  an  Indian  that  it  had  been  copied  from  the  quick- 
silver jars,  exported  from  Idria  to  Peru.  On  the  return  of  the 
procession  to  the  church,  a  hymn,  with  harp  accompaniment,  is 
sung  to  the  Virgin,  as  the  figure  is  carried  under  the  arches  of 
flowers.  The  bier  of  the  Saviour  is  then  deposited  in  the  church, 
where  it  is  watched  throughout  the  night. 

On  the  following  morning,  at  four  o'clock,  the  ceremony  of 
hanging  Judas  takes  place  in  front  of  the  church.     A  figure  of 


TRANSMISSION  OF  LETTERS.  267 

Judas,  the  size  of  life,  is  filled  with  squibs  and  crackers,  and  is 
frequently  made  to  bear  a  resemblance  to  some  obnoxious  inha- 
bitant of  the  place.  After  the  match  is  applied  to  the  combusti- 
ble figure,  the  cholos  dance  around  it,  and  exult  in  the  blowing 
up  of  their  enemy. 

In  the  Sierra,  as  well  as  on  the  coast,  the  priests  are  usually 
the  tyrants  rather  than  the  guardians  of  their  flocks  ;  and  they 
would  frequently  be  the  objects  of  hatred  and  vengeance  but 
for  the  deep-rooted  and  almost  idolatrous  reverence  which  the 
Indians  cherish  for  priestcraft.  It  is  disgusting  to  see  the  Peru- 
vian priests,  who  usually  treat  the  Indians  like  brutes,  behaving 
with  the  most  degrading  servility  when  they  want  to  get  money 
from  them.  The  love  of  the  Indians  for  strong  drinks  is  a  vice 
which  the  priests  turn  to  their  own  advantage.  For  the  sake  of 
the  fees  they  frequently  order  religious  festivals,  which  are  joy- 
fully hailed  by  the  Indians,  because  they  never  fail  to  end  in 
drinking  bouts. 

Added  to  the  ill  treatment  of  the  priests,  the  Indians  are  most 
unjustly  oppressed  by  the  civil  authorities.  In  the  frequent 
movements  of  troops  from  one  place  to  another,  they  are  exposed 
to  great  losses  and  vexations.  They  are  compelled  to  perform 
the  hardest  duties  without  payment,  and  often  the  produce  of 
their  fields  is  laid  under  contribution,  or  their  horses  and  mules 
are  pressed  into  the  service  of  the  military.  When  intelligence 
is  received  of  the  march  of  a  battalion,  the  natives  convey  their 
cattle  to  some  remote  place  of  concealment  in  the  mountains,  for 
they  seldom  recover  possession  of  them  if  once  they  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  soldiery. 

Every  fortnight  a  mail  is  despatched  with  letters  from  Lima 
to  Tarma,  Jauja,  Huancavelica,  Ayacucha,  Cuzco,  and  into 
Bolivia ;  another  procqeds  to  the  northern  provinces  ;  a  third  to 
Arequipa  and  the  southern  provinces ;  and  every  week  one  is 
despatched  to  Cerro  de  Pasco.  In  Lima,  the  letter-bag  is  con- 
signed to  the  charge  of  an  Indian,  who  conveys  it  on  the  back  of 
a  mule  to  the  next  station,*  where  it  is  received  by  another  In- 

*  The  distance  from  one  station  to  another  varies  from  six  to  twelve 
miles. 


268  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


dian  ;  and  in  this  manner,  handed  from  cholo  to  cholo,  the  letter- 
bag  traverses  the  whole  of  its  destined  route,  unaccompanied  by 
an  official  courier.  As  soon  as  the  mail  arrives  at  a  station,  a 
flag  is  displayed  at  the  house  of  the  post-master,  to  intimate  to 
those  who  expect  letters  that  they  may  receive  them  ;  for  they 
are  not  sent  round  to  the  persons  to  whom  they  are  addressed, 
and  it  is  sometimes  even  a  favor  to  get  them  three  or  four  days 
after  their  arrival.  The  Peruvian  post  is  as  tardy  as  it  is  ill- 
regulated.  On  one  of  my  journeys,  I  started  from  Lima  two 
days  after  the  departure  of  the  mail.  On  the  road  I  overtook 
and  passed  the  Indian  who  had  charge  of  the  letters,  and,  without 
hurrying  myself,  I  arrived  in  Tarma  a  day  and  a  half  before 
him.  Ascending  the  Cordillera,  I  once  met  an  Indian  very  lei- 
surely driving  his  ass  before  him  with  the  mail-bag  fastened  to 
its  back.  Between  the  towns  which  do  not  lie  in  the  regular 
line  of  route,  there  is  no  post-office  communication  ;  for  example, 
between  Pasco  and  Caxamarca,  or  between  Pasco  and  Tarma, 
or  Jauja  ;  and  when  it  is  wished  to  despatch  letters  from  one  to 
another  of  these  towns,  private  messengers  must  be  employed. 
The  consequence  is,  that  business,  which  in  Europe  would  be 
conducted  through  the  medium  of  correspondence,  can  be  ar- 
ranged only  by  personal  communication  in  Peru.  Travelling 
is  difficult,  but  not  very  expensive,  as  every  one  possesses  horses 
or  mules. 

The  best  mules  employed  in  the  Sierra  are  obtained  from  the 
province  of  Tucuman  in  Buenos  Ayres.  Formerly  the  arrieros 
used  annually  to  bring  droves  of  several  thousand  mules  through 
Bolivia  and  the  Peruvian  Sierra,  selling  as  many  as  they  could  on 
the  way,  and  taking  to  Cerro  de  Pasco  those  that  remained  un- 
sold. During  the  Spanish  domination,  the  mule  trade  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  Government,  to  whose  agents  it  afforded  ample  op- 
portunity for  the  exercise  of  injustice  and  extortion.  It  was  one 
of  the  most  oppressive  of  the  repartimientos.*  Every  Indian  was 
compelled  to  purchase  a  mule,  and  was  not  allowed  even  the 
privilege  of  choosing  the  animal.  The  mules  were  distributed 


*  Repartimientos  (literally,  distributions)  were  the  compulsory  sale  of 
articles  by  the  provincial  authorities. 


BUILDINGS  AND  ROADS  IN  THE  SIERRA.  269 

by  the  authorities,  and  were  tied  to  the  doors  of  the  houses  for 
whose  occupants  they  were  destined.  After  the  distribution  of 
the  mules,  a  collector  went  round  to  receive  the  payment. 
During  the  war  in  Buenos  Ayres  the  traffic  in  mules  suffered 
very  considerably.  For  the  space  of  twelve  years  not  a  mule 
had  been  brought  from  that  part  of  South  America  to  Peru,  when 
in  1840  the  Tucumanians  revisited  the  Sierra  with  their  droves 
of  mules.  They  were  joyfully  welcomed  by  the  Serranos,  who 
gave  good  prices  for  the  animals,  and  since  then  the  traffic  has 
begun  to  revive. 

In  tracing  the  characteristic  features  of  the  Sierra,  I  have  as 
far  as  possible  confined  myself  to  generalities,  and  I  will  not  now 
weary  the  reader  by  entering  upon  a  minute  description  of  par- 
ticular towns  and  villages.  All  are  built  pretty  nearly  after  one 
model.  The  large  quadrangular  Plaza  is  closed  on  three  of  its 
sides  with  buildings,  among  which  there  is  always  the  Govern- 
ment house  (calildo),  and  the  public  jail ;  the  fourth  side  is 
occupied  by  a  church.  From  this  Plaza  run  in  straight  lines 
eight  streets,  more  or  less  broad,  and  these  streets  are  crossed  at 
right  angles  by  others  ;  all  presenting  the  same  uniformity  as  in 
Lima.  The  houses  are  roomy,  surrounded  by  court-yards,  and 
consist  of  a  ground-floor  and  a  story  above,  but  very  frequently  of 
the  ground-floor  only.  The  walls  are  of  brick,  and  the  roofs  are 
tiled.  The  churches  are  in  very  bad  taste,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  in  the  larger  towns,  which  have  a  good  appearance  exter- 
nally, and  are  richly  decorated  within.  The  smaller  Indian  vil- 
lages are  poor  and  dirty,  and  are  built  with  little  attention  to 
regularity.  But  even  in  them  the  quadrangular  Plaza  is  never 
wanting,  and  at  least  four  straight  streets  issue  from  it. 

The  Sierra  is  by  far  the  most  populous  part  of  Peru.  The 
banks  of  the  rivers  flowing  through  the  fertile  valleys  are  thickly 
clustered  with  villages,  which  give  a  peculiar  charm  to  the  land- 
scape, doubly  pleasing  to  the  eye  of  the  traveller  who  comes 
from  the  barren  parts  of  the  country.  The  cultivated  lands  afford 
evidence  of  progressive  improvement,  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine 
the  flourishing  condition  to  which  this  country  might  arrive  with 
increased  population. 

From  the  Sierra  two  separate  roads  lead  to  the  eastern  de- 


270  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


clivity  of  the  Andes.  One  lies  along  the  banks  of  the  mountain 
rivers,  and  the  other  passes  over  the  ridges  of  the  mountains. 
The  first  way  is  very  difficult,  and  scarcely  practicable,  for  in 
some  parts  the  streams  flow  through  narrow  ravines,  bordered  on 
each  side  by  perpendicular  rocks,  and  occasionally  their  course 
is  hidden  amidst  impenetrable  forests.  The  other  way,  across 
the  mountains,  leads  again  into  the  Puna  region,  and  from  thence 
over  the  steep  ridges  of  the  Andes  to  their  barren  summits.  De- 
scending from  these  summits,  we  arrive  on  the  sharp  ridges  of 
one  of  the  many  side  branches  of  the  Puna  Cordillera,  which  run 
eastward.  The  Peruvians  call  these  sharp  mountain  ridges 
Cuchillas  (knives).  After  crossing  the  Andes,  and  descending 
a  few  hundred  feet  lower,  in  the  direction  of  the  east,  the  travel- 
ler beholds  a  country  totally  different  from  that  which  he  left  on 
the  western  declivity  of  the  mountains.  On  the  eastern  side  the 
soil  is  richly  covered  with  vegetation.  From  the  cuchillas  the 
road  ascends  to  some  higher  ridges,  crowned  with  stunted  trees 
and  brushwood,  which,  gradually  spreading  upward,  blend  with 
the  high  forests.  These  wooded  ridges  are  called  by  the  natives 
Ceja  de  la  Montana  (the  mist  of  the  mountains).  In  these 
regions  the  climate  is  generally  more  mild  than  in  the  Sierra, 
for  the  mercury  never  falls  to  freezing  point,  and  in  the  middle 
part  of  the  day  it  never  rises  so  high  as  in  the  warm  Sierra  val- 
leys. Throughout  the  whole  year  the  Ceja  de  la  Montana  is 
overshadowed  by  thick  mists,  rising  from  the  rivers  in  the  val- 
leys. In  the  dry  season  these  mists  are  absorbed  by  the  sun's 
rays,  but  in  winter  they  float  in  thick  clouds  over  the  hills,  and 
discharge  themselves  in  endless  torrents  of  rain.  The  damp  va- 
pors have  an  injurious  effect  on  the  health  of  the  inhabitants  of 
these  districts,  which  are,  however,  very  thinly  populated,  as  the 
constant  moisture  unfits  the  soil  for  the  cultivation  of  anything 
except  potatoes.  The  pure  alpine  air  of  the  Puna  is  preferred 
by  the  Indians  to  the  vapory  atmosphere  of  the  Ceja.  .•*  ' 


ROAD  TO  THE  PRIMEVAL  FORESTS.  271 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Road  to  the  Primeval  Forests — Barbacoas,  or  Indian  Suspension  Bridges — 
Vegetation — Hollow  Passes — Zoology — the  Montana — Plantations — In- 
habitants— Trade  in  Peruvian  Bark — Wandering  Indians — Wild  Indians 
or  Indies  Bravos — Languages,  Manners,  and  Customs  of  the  Indies  Bra- 
vos — Dress — Warlike  Weapons  and  Hunting  Arms — Dwellings — Reli- 
gion— Physical  formation  of  the  Wild  Indian  Tribes — Animals  of  the 
Aboriginal  Forests — Mammalia — Hunting  the  Ounce — Birds — Amphi- 
bia— Poisonous  Serpents — Huaco — Insects — Plants. 

LEAVING  Ceja  de  la  Montana,  we  will  trace  the  route  to  the  Abo- 
riginal forests,  which  extend  eastwardly  from  the  bases  of  the 
Andes.  The  whole  plain  is  overspread  by  a  thick  veil  of  mist, 
which  does  not  disperse  until  about  noon,  and  then  an  undulating 
dark  green  canopy  clouds  the  vapory  atmosphere.  A  European, 
whose  heart  throbs  at  the  bare  idea  of  one  of  those  vast  virgin 
forests,  gazes  anxiously  forward  on  the  boundless  distance,  and 
finds  the  pace  of  his  cautious  mule  too  tardy  for  his  impatient 
hopes  and  wishes.  He  beholds  in  perspective  the  goal  of  his 
long  journey.  Nature,  in  all  her  virginal  freshness  and  gran- 
deur, opens  to  his  astonished  eyes,  and  he  feels  a  sensation  of 
delight  he  never  before  experienced.  Regardless  of  present  toil 
and  danger,  he  sees  only  the  pleasure  to  come.  But  he  is  soon 
drawn  back  to  cool  reality,  and  is  forcibly  reminded  of  the  truth, 
that  every  enjoyment  must  be  earned  by  labor.  The  road  is 
broken,  narrow,  and  steep ;  over  the  woody  sides  of  the  hill  it 
is  easily  passable  ;  but  as  soon  as  it  begins  to  descend,  it  presents 
all  those  difficulties  which  have  been  interestingly  described  by 
the  early  travellers  in  Peru.  The  scanty  population  of  the  sur- 
rounding districts,  the  native  listlessness  of  the  Indians,  and  their 
indifference  to  the  conveniences  of  life,  are  obstacles  to  the 
making  of  roads  which  might  be  passable  without  difficulty  and 
danger.  However,  where  nature  from  the  state  of  the  country 


272  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


has  compelled  man  to  establish  a  communication,  it  is  executed 
in  the  most  rude  and  unsatisfactory  manner.  A  most  decided 
proof  of  this  is  apparent  in  the  bridges  called  barbacoas,  which 
are  constructed  where  the  way  is  through  a  derumbo,  or  a  small 
narrow  mountain-pass,  or  where  there  is  an  obstruction  caused 
by  a  rock  which  cannot  be  passed  circuitously.  The  barbacoas 
are  constructed  in  the  following  manner.  Stakes  from  three 
to  three  and  a  half  feet  long  are  driven  into  the  ground,  or  into 
the  crevices  of  rocks.  Over  the  ends  of  these  stakes  are  fastened 
strong  branches  of  trees,  the  interstices  are  filled  up  with  mud, 
and  the  whole  is  covered  by  a  sort  of  matting  composed  of  plaited 
branches  and  reeds.  If  the  ground  admits  of  it,  which  is  seldom 
the  case,  a  pile  of  stones  is  built  up  beneath  the  barbacoa,  ex- 
tending to  at  least  one  half  its  breadth.  When  it  is  considered 
that  there  is,  probably,  on  the  one  side  of  this  bridge,  a  rock 
inclining  at  a  very  acute  angle,  or  an  almost  perpendicular  de- 
clivity of  a  hill  of  loose  earth,  and  that  on  the  other  side  there 
yawns  a  deep  abyss  against  which  there  is  not  the  least  protec- 
tion, the  traveller  may  well  be  pardoned  if  he  shudders  as  he 
passes  over  the  creaking  and  shaking  barbacoa.  These  fragile 
bridges  are  often  so  much  worn,  that  the  feet  of  the  mules  slip 
through  the  layers  of  mud  and  reeds,  and  whilst  making  efforts 
to  disengage  themselves,  the  animals  fall  over  the  edge  of  the 
barbacoa,  and  are  hurled  into  the  chasm  below,  dragging  down 
the  crazy  structure  along  with  them.  In  consequence  of  these 
accidents,  the  way  is  often  for  weeks,  or  even  months,  impassable. 
In  the  construction  of  these  rude  bridges,  I  observed  that  the 
Indians,  in  their  simplicity,  always  faithfully  copy  their  great 
instructress,  nature.  The  majority  of  the  plants  growing  in 
these  regions  belong,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  to  an  aerial 
vegetation.  The  small,  gnarled,  low-branched  trees,  have  often 
scarcely  one  half  of  their  roots  in  the  earth :  the  other  half 
spreads  over  the  surface  of  the  soil ;  then  winding  round  the 
roots  or  branches  of  some  neighboring  plant,  fastens  on  it,  and 
intimately  uniting  with  it.  forms  a  kind  of  suspension  bridge, 
over  which  the  intertwining  of  numerous  luxuriant  climbing  plants 
makes  a  strong,  impenetrable  network.  All  the  trees  and  shrubs 
are  covered  with  innumerable  parasites,  which,  in  the  higher  re- 


DANGEROUS  MOUNTAIN  PASSES.  273 

gions,  are  met  with  in  their  smaller  forms,  as  lichens,  mosses, 
&c. ;  but  lower  down,  in  the  course  of  the  various  transforma- 
tions they  undergo,  they  appear  in  larger  development. 

The  whole  vegetable  kingdom  here  is  stamped  by  a  peculiar 
character.  It  presents  immense  fulness  and  luxuriance :  it 
spreads  widely,  with  but  little  upward  development,  rising  on  the 
average  only  a  few  feet  above  the  earth.  Trees,  shrubs,  and 
tendrils,  in  endless  complication  of  color,  entwine  together,  some- 
times fostering,  sometimes  crushing  each  other.  Out  of  the  re- 
mains of  the  dead  arises  a  new  generation,  with  an  increase  of 
vital  impulse.  It  seems  as  though  the  ice-crowned  Andes  looked 
down  with  envy  on  the  luxuriant  vegetation  of  the  forests,  and 
sought  to  blight  it  by  sending  down  cold,  nightly  winds.  The 
low  temperature  of  the  night  counteracts  that  extreme  develop- 
ment which  the  humidity  of  the  soil  and  the  great  heat  of  the  day 
promote.  But  what  the  vegetation  loses  in  upward  growth  it 
gains  in  superficial  extension,  and  thereby  it  secures  more  pro- 
tection against  the  ever- alternating  temperature. 

The  further  we  descend  the  eastern  declivity,  the  more  difficult 
becomes  the  way.  During  the  rainy  season  deep  fissures  are 
worked  out  by  the  flow  of  waters ;  the  ground  is  slippery  and 
full  of  holes.  The  sides  of  these  hollow  passes  are  often  so  close 
together  that  the  rider  cannot  keep  his  legs  down  on  each  side  of  his 
mule,  and  is  obliged  to  raise  up  his  feet  and  thrust  them  forward. 
When  beasts  of  burthen,  coming  in  opposite  directions,  meet  in 
these  places,  the  direst  confusion  ensues,  and  frequently  sangui- 
nary conflicts  arise  among  the  Indians.  The  weaker  party  are 
then  obliged  to  unload  their  mules,  and  the  poor  beasts  are  drag- 
ged backward  by  their  hind  legs,  until  they  reach  a  point  at 
which  there  is  sufficient  space  for  the  others  to  pass.  When  I 
was  proceeding  through  one  of  these  cavities  on  Christmas-eve, 
1840,  I  encountered  a  heavily  laden  ass  coming  down  a  steep 
declivity.  Ere  I  had  time  to  leap  from  my  saddle,  the  ass  came 
direct  upon  me  with  such  force  that  my  horse  was  driven  back- 
wards by  the  concussion,  and  I  was  thrown.  Ten  months  after- 
wards, another  encounter  of  the  same  kind  threatened  me  with  a 
similar  disaster,  and  to  save  myself  I  had  no  alternative  but  to 
shoot  the  ass.  The  Indian  who  was  driving  the  animal  neglected 
13* 


274  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

the  usual  warning  cry,  given  by  the  arrieros  when  they  enter 
those  dangerous  passes,  and  he  was  regardless  of  my  repeated 
calls  desiring  him  to  stop. 

In  some  steep  places,  with  the  view  of  improving  the  roads,  the 
Indians  lay  down  large  stones  in  the  form  of  steps ;  but  to  ride 
over  these  rude  flights  of  steps  is  no  easy  task,  for  the  stones  are 
small,  and  are  placed  at  the  distance  of  a  foot  and  a  half  or  two 
feet  apart.  The  mule  begins  by  placing  his  hind  feet  on  the 
first  stone,  then  springing  forward  he  reaches  the  third  stone  with 
his  fore  feet,  at  the  same  time  placing  his  hind  feet  to  the  second. 
By  this  manoeuvre  the  mule's  body  is  kept  at  full  stretch,  and 
the  rider  is  obliged  to  lean  forward  over  the  animal's  neck  to 
avoid  being  thrown  head-foremost  by  the  violent  jerks  when  the 
mule  springs  from  step  to  step.  It  is  absolute  torture  to  ride 
down  a  descent  of  five  or  six  leagues,  along  a  road  such  as  I 
have  just  described  :  willingly  would  the  harassed  rider  dismount 
and  pursue  his  course  on  foot ;  but  were  he  to  attempt  to  do  so, 
the  mule  would  stand  stock  still.  I  have  already  remarked  the 
singular  obstinacy  with  which  the  mules  refuse  to  proceed  when 
their  riders  dismount,  and  it  sometimes  gives  rise  to  very  comical 
scenes.  On  my  way  to  Vitoc,  I  was  passing  through  a  ravine 
in  which  the  uprooted  trunk  of  a  tree  was  resting  slantwise 
against  a  rock.  Though  there  was  not  room  for  me  to  ride  under 
it,  yet  there  was  sufficient  space  to  allow  my  mule  to  pass,  and  I 
accordingly  dismounted  ;  but  all  my  efforts  to  drive  the  animal  for- 
ward were  fruitless.  I  had  no  alternative  but  to  ride  close  up  to 
the  tree,  then  spurring  the  mule,  I  quickly  slipped  out  of  the 
saddle,  and  seizing  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  I  hung  to  it  until  the 
mule  had  passed  on. 

No  less  difficult  and  dangerous  are  the  steep  declivities  over 
loamy  soils,  which  are  frequently  met  with  in  these  districts. 
On  them  the  mule  has  no  firm  footing,  and  is  in  danger  of  slip- 
ping down  at  every  step.  But  the  wonderful  instinct  of  these 
animals  enables  them  to  overcome  the  difficulty.  They  approxi- 
mate the  hind  and  fore  feet  in  the  manner  of  the  Chamois  goat, 
when  he  is  about  to  make  a  spring,  and  lowering  the  hinder  part 
of  the  body  in  a  position,  half  sitting  half  standing,  they  slide 
down  the  smooth  declivity.  At  first  this  sliding  movement 


ANIMALS  OF  THE  LOWER  FORESTS.  275 

creates  a  very  unpleasant  feeling  of  apprehension,  which  is  not 
altogether  removed  by  frequent  repetitions.  Accidents  frequently 
occur,  in  which  both  mule  and  rider  are  mortally  injured. 

There  is  more  variety  of  animals  in  these  regions  than  in  the 
mountainous  parts ;  but  they  have  few  peculiarities  of  character. 
The  swift-footed  roe  of  the  Cordillera  roams  here  and  dwells  in 
the  thickets,  avoiding  the  warm  forest.  The  dark  brown  coati 
(Nasua  montana,  Tsch.)  howls,  and  digs  at  the  roots  of  trees  in 
search  of  food ;  the  shy  opossum  crawls  fearfully  under  the  foli- 
age ;  the  lazy  armadillo  creeps  into  his  hole ;  but  the  ounce  and 
the  lion  seldom  stray  hither  to  contest  with  the  black  bear  (  Ursus 
frugilegus,  Tsch.)  the  possession  of  his  territory.  The  little 
hairy  tapir  (Tapirus  villosus,  Wagn.)  ventures  only  at  twilight 
out  of  his  close  ambush  to  forage  in  the  long  grass. 

Of  the  birds  there  is  not  much  variety  of  species ;  but  all  are 
remarkable  for  gay-colored  plumage.  Among  the  most  charac- 
teristic of  these  districts  are  the  red-bellied  tanagra  (Tanagra 
ignivc?itris,  Orb.),  the  fire-colored  pyranga  (PhoBnisoma  Mvittata, 
Tsch.),  two  species  of  the  crow,  one  of  which  is  of  a  fine  blue 
color  (Cyanocorax  viridicyanus,  G.  R.  Gray),  the  other  green  on 
the  back  and  bright  yellow  on  the  belly  (Cyanoc.  peruanus,  Cab.). 
The  Indians  call  the  latter  Quienquien,  as  it  utters  a  sort  of 
screaming  sound  resembling  these  syllables.  Individual  birds 
belonging  to  the  Penelope  family  (P.  rufiventris  and  adspersa, 
Tsch.)  and  the  green  pepper-eater  (Pteroglossus  caruleo-cinctus, 
Tsch.,  Pt.  atro-gularis,  Sturm.)  are  found  in  the  lower  forests. 

Proceeding  still  further  downward  we  at  length  reach  the 
Montana.  The  Peruvians  apply  this  name  to  the  vast  aboriginal 
forests  which  extend  across  the  whole  country  from  north  to 
south  along  the  eastern  foot  of  the  Andes.  Those  which  lie 
higher,  and  in  which  the  spaces  between  the  lofty  trees  are  over- 
grown with  thick  masses  of  bushes  and  twining  plants,  are  called 
by  the  natives  simply  Montanas.  Those  which  are  free  from 
these  intermediate  masses  of  vegetation  they  call  Montanas  reales 
(royal  mountains).  At  first  sight  they  produce  the  impression 
of  a  virgin  forest  of  oaks. 

The  distance  from  the  Ceja  to  the  district  properly  called  the 
Montana  is  very  various  at  different  points.  In  some  parts  it 


276  TRAVELS  IN  PERU 


takes  six  or  eight  days'  hard  riding ;  in  other  directions  the  tra- 
veller may,  in  the  morning,  leave  the  snow-covered  Puna  huts, 
and  at  sunset,  on  the  uninhabited  margin  of  the  primeval  forest, 
he  may  taste  pine-apples  and  bananas  of  his  own  gathering. 
Such  a  day  certainly  deserves  to  form  an  epoch  in  his  life  ;  for  in 
the  course  of  a  few  hours  he  passes  through  the  most  opposite 
climates  of  the  earth,  and  the  gradual  progression  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  vegetable  world  is  spread  out  in  visible  reality  before 
him. 

The  Montafias  of  Peru  are,  in  general,  but  thinly  peopled  with 
Christian  Indians.  They  are  employed  either  in  cultivating  their 
own  fields,  or  in  working  as  day-laborers  in  the  great  plantations. 
The  productions  of  the  haciendas  consist  chiefly  of  sugar,  coffee, 
maize,  coca,  tobacco,  oranges,  bananas,  and  pine-apples,  which 
are  sent  to  the  Sierra.  The  cultivation  of  bark,  balsams,  gums, 
honey  and  wax,  also  occupies  a  great  number  of  Indians. 

The  plantation  buildings  stand  on  rising  grounds.  The  walls 
are  constructed  of  reeds,  the  interstices  being  filled  up  with  loam, 
and  the  roofs  are  of  straw  or  palm  leaves.  Around  the  buildings 
are  the  fields  allotted  to  cultivation,  in  which  the  soils  favorable 
to  the  production  of  certain  plants  are  selected.  The  coffee 
usually  grows  round  the  house,  and  an  adjacent  building  contains 
the  store-rooms.  The  fruit-trees  grow  along  the  margins  of  the 
maize  fields ;  marshy  ground  is  selected  for  the  sugar  fields ;  in 
the  vicinity  of  brooks  and  streams  the  useful  banana  flourishes ; 
the  pine-trees  are  ranged  in  rows  on  the  hot,  dry  declivities,  and 
the  coca  is  found  to  thrive  best  in  warm,  hollow  dells. 

As  the  humidity  of  the  atmosphere,  added  to  the  multitudes  of 
insects,  mice  and  rats,  prevents  any  lengthened  preservation  of 
provisions,  the  cultivators  sell  or  exchange  them  as  speedily  as 
possible ;  hence  arises  a  very  active  intercourse  in  business  be- 
tween the  Montafias  and  the  Sierra.  The  mountain  Indians  bring 
llamas,  dried  meat,  potatoes,  bark,  and  salt,  to  exchange  for  fruit ; 
it  is  very  seldom  that  any  money  circulates  in  this  traffic.  Only 
the  owners  of  plantations  sell  their  productions  for  ready  money, 
with  which  they  purchase,  in  the  upland  towns,  European  goods, 
particularly  printed  and  plain  cottons,  coarse  woollen  stuffs,  knives, 
hatchets,  fishing-tackle,  &c. ;  with  these  goods  they  pay  their 


CULTIVATION  AND  TRAFFIC.  277 

laborers,  charging  them  for  every  article  five  or  even  six  times 
its  value.  As  there  is  throughout  these  forest  regions  a  great 
want  of  men,  the  plantation  owners  endeavor  to  get  the  few  In- 
dians who  settle  voluntarily  on  their  property,  fixed  to  it  for  ever. 
They  sell  them  indispensable  necessaries  at  an  extravagant  price, 
on  condition  of  their  paying  for  them  by  field  labor. 

I  have  seen  an  Indian  give  five  days'  labor,  from  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  sunset,  for  a  red  pocket-handkerchief,  which  in 
Germany  would  not  be  worth  four  groschen.  The  desire  to  possess 
showy  articles,  the  necessity  of  obtaining  materials  for  his  wretch- 
ed clothing,  or  implements  to  enable  him,  in  his  few  free  hours, 
to  cultivate  his  own  field,  and,  above  all,  his  passion  for  coca  and 
intoxicating  drinks,  all  prompt  the  Indian  to  incur  debt  upon  debt 
to  the  plantation  owner.  The  sugar-cane  is  seldom  used  in  the 
forest  plantations  for  making  sugar.  The  juice  is  usually  con- 
verted into  the  cakes  called  chancacas,  which  have  been  already 
mentioned,  or  it  is  made  into  guarapo,  a  strong  liquor,  which  the 
Indians  spare  no  effort  to  procure.  When  they  begin  to  be  in- 
toxicated, they  desire  more  and  more  of  the  liquor,  which  is  readily 
given,  as  it  is  the  interest  of  the  owners  to  supply  it.  After  some 
days  of  extreme  abstinence  they  return  to  their  work,  and  then 
the  Mayordomo  shows  them  how  much  their  debt  has  increased, 
and  the  astonished  Indian  finds  that  he  must  labor  for  several 
months  to  pay  it ;  thus  these  unfortunate  beings  are  fastened  in  the 
fetters  of  slavery.  Their  treatment  is,  in  general,  most  tyrannical. 
The  Negro  slave  is  far  more  happy  than  the  free  Indians  in  the 
haciendas  of  this  part  of  Peru.  At  sunrise  all  the  laborers  must 
assemble  in  the  courtyard  of  the  plantation,  where  the  Mayordomo 
prescribes  to  them  their  day's  work,  and  gives  them  the  necessary 
implements.  They  are  compelled  to  work  in  the  most  oppressive 
heat,  and  are  only  allowed  to  rest  thrice  for  a  few  minutes,  at 
times  fixed,  for  chewing  their  coca  and  for  dinner.  For  indolence  or 
obstinacy  they  suffer  corporal  punishment,  usually  by  being  put 
into  a  kind  of  stocks,  called  the  CEPO,  in  which  the  culprit  stands 
from  twelve  to  forty-eight  hours,  with  his  neck  or  legs  fixed  be- 
tween two  blocks  of  wood. 

The  labor  of  bringing  the  forest  lands  into  a  productive  state  is 
one  of  the  severest  tasks  in  the  Montanas,  and  it  can  only  be 


278  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


performed  in  the  hottest  season  of  the  year.  As  the  soil  is  al- 
ways moist,  and  the  vegetation  full  of  sap,  the  trees  must  be  cut 
down  about  the  end  of  the  rainy  season,  and  after  drying  for 
some  months  they  are  burned ;  but  they  are  seldom  brought  into 
a  state  of  such  aridity  as  to  be  destroyed  by  the  action  of  the  fire. 
This  is  a  considerable  obstruction  to  the  progress  of  raising  plants ; 
for  the  seed  must  be  sown  between  the  felled  trees,  which  are 
perhaps  only  half-charred,  and  are  still  damp.  In  consequence 
of  this,  the  practice  is,  in  the  first  year,  to  plant  maize  at  the  places 
where  the  burnt  trees  are  laid ;  the  maize  grows  in  almost  in- 
credible abundance,  and  the  result  is  a  singularly  rich  harvest, 
after  which,  part  of  the  burned  wood  is  removed.  The  same 
process  is  renewed  after  every  harvest,  until  all  the  burnt  trees  are 
cleared  off  and  a  free  field  gained  for  the  cultivation  of  the  peren- 
nial plants. 

Far  more  fortunate  than  the  Indians  who  are  neighbors  of  the 
plantations,  are  those  who  live  far  back  in  the  interior  of  the 
forests,  and  who,  in  consequence  of  their  great  distance  from  any 
settlement,,  seldom  have  intercourse  with  the  civilized  world. 
Content  with  what  bounteous  nature  offers  them,  and  ignorant  of 
the  wants  of  more  refined  life,  they  seek  nothing  beyond  such 
things  as  they  can,  without  any  great  efforts,  obtain  in  the  districts 
in  which  they  dwell.  There  they  plant  their  little  patches  of 
ground,  the  care  of  which  is  consigned  to  the  women.  The  men 
takes  their  bows  and  arrows  and  set  out  on  hunting  expeditions, 
during  which  they  are  for  weeks,  often  months,  absent  from  their 
homes.  The  rainy  season  drives  them  back  to  their  huts,  where 
they  indulge  in  indolent  repose,  which  is  only  occasionally  sus- 
pended when  they  are  engaged  in  fishing.  The  return  of  the 
sunny  sky  draws  them  out  again  on  their  expeditions,  in  which 
they  collect  a  sufficient  supply  of  food  for  the  year. 

But  wherever  these  Indians  have  settled  on  the  banks  of  great 
rivers,  the  trading  intercourse  produces  an  alteration  in  their  mode 
of  life.  Europeans  and  Creoles  then  try  to  create  among  them, 
as  among  the  plantation  Indians,  a  desire  to  satisfy  unnecessary 
wants,  and  thereby  they  are  induced  to  collect  the  valuable  pro- 
ductions of  the  forests.  In  the  loftier  districts  of  the  Montanas 
the  Peruvian  bark  is  found  :  the  lower  and  more  marshy  places 


PERUVIAN  BARK.  279 


produce  the  sarsaparilla,  and  a  sort  of  wood  for  dyeing  called 
Llangua.  This  last-named  article  has  not  yet  found  its  way  to 
Europe. 

In  the  month  of  May  the  Indians  assemble  to  collect  the  Peru- 
vian bark,  for  which  purpose  they  repair  to  the  extensive  Cinchona 
woods.  One  of  the  party  climbs  a  high  tree  to  obtain,  if  possible, 
an  uninterrupted  view  over  the  forest,  and  to  spy  out  the  Manchas, 
or  spots  where  there  are  groups  of  Peruvian  bark  trees.  The 
men  who  thus  spy  out  the  trees  are  called  Cateadores,  or  searchers. 
It  requires  great  experience  to  single  out,  in  the  dark  leaf-covered 
expanse,  the  Cinchona  groups  merely  by  the  particular  tint  of  the 
foliage,  which  often  differs  but  very  little  from  that  of  the  sur- 
rounding trees.  As  soon  as  the  cateador  has  marked  out  and 
correctly  fixed  upon  the  mancha,  he  descends  to  his  companions, 
and  leads  them  with  wonderful  precision  through  the  almost  im- 
penetrable forest  to  the  group.  A  hut  is  immediately  built,  which 
serves  as  a  resting-place  during  night,  and  is  also  used  for  drying 
and  preserving  the  bark*  The  tree  is  felled  as  near  the  root  as 
possible,  divided  into  pieces,  each  from  three  to  four  feet  long, 
and  with  a  short  curved  knife  a  longitudinal  incision  is  made  in 
the  bark.  After  a  few  days,  if  the  pieces  are  found  to  be  getting 
dry,  the  bark  already  incised  is  stripped  off  in  long  slips,  which 
are  placed  in  the  hut,  or  in  hot  weather  laid  before  it  to  dry.  In 
many  parts,  particularly  in  the  central  and  southern  districts  of 
Peru,  where  the  moisture  is  not  very  great,  the  bark  is  dried  in 
the  forest,  and  the  slips  are  packed  in  large  bundles.  In  other 
districts,  on  the  contrary,  the  bark  is  rolled  up  green,  and  sent  to 
the  neighboring  villages,  where  it  is  dried.  Towards  the  end  of 
September  the  Cascarilleros*  return  to  their  homes. 

In  the  more  early  periods  of  South  American  history,  the  bark 
was  a  principal  article  of  Peruvian  commerce.  Since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  century  its  value  has,  however,  con- 
siderably diminished,  chiefly  in  consequence  of  adulterated  and 
inferior  kinds,  which  are  supplied  from  other  quarters,  perhaps 
also  on  account  of  the  more  frequent  use  of  quinine ;  for  in  the 
production  of  the  alkaloids  less  bark  is  employed  than  was  for- 

*  Bark-gatherers.  The  Peruvians  call  the  bark  cascarilla,  and  they 
point  out  the  distinctions  of  a  great  number  of  species  and  varieties. 


280  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


merly  used  in  substance.  During  the  war  of  independence  the 
bark  trade  received  its  death-blow,  and  for  the  space  of  several 
years  scarcely  more  than  a  few  hundred-weights  of  bark  were 
exported  from  Peru.  The  Montanas  of  Huanuco,  which  once 
furnished  all  the  apothecaries  of  Europe  with  the  "  divine  medi- 
cine," are  beginning  again  to  yield  supplies.  From  the  roots  of 
the  felled  trees  a  vigorous  after-growth  has  commenced.  In  the 
Montanas  of  Huamalies  a  kind  of  bark  is  found,  the  nature  of 
which  is  not  yet  defined  by  botanists ;  and  from  the  Montanas  of 
Urubamba  comes  the  highly  esteemed  Cascarilla  de  Cuzco,  which 
contains  an  alkaloid,  named  Cusconin.*  Possibly  the  medicinal 
bark  may  again  become  a  flourishing  branch  of  trade  for  Peru, 
though  it  can  never  again  recover  the  importance  which  was  at- 
tached to  it  a  century  ago.  During  my  residence  in  Peru,  a  plan 
was  in  agitation  for  establishing  a  quinine  manufactory  at  Hua- 
nuco. The  plan,  if  well  carried  out,  would  certainly  be  attended 
with  success.  There  is  in  Bolivia  an  establishment  of  this  kind 
conducted  by  a  Frenchman ;  but  the  quinine  produced  is  very 
impure.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Peruvian  forests  drink  an  in- 
fusion of  the  green  bark  as  a  remedy  against  intermitting  fever. 
I  have  found  it  in  many  cases  much  more  efficacious  than  the  dried 
kind,  for  less  than  half  the  usual  dose  produces,  in  a  short  time, 
convalescence,  and  the  patient  is  secure  against  returning  febrile 
attacks. 

A  class  of  Indians  who  live  far  back  in  the  heart  of  the  woods 
of  Southern  Peru  and  Bolivia  employ  themselves  almost  exclu- 
sively in  gathering  balsams  and  odorous  gums  from  resinous 
plants,  many  of  which  are  burned  in  the  churches  as  incense. 
They  also  collect  various  objects,  supposed  to  be  sympathetic 
remedies,  such  as  the  claws  of  the  tapir,  against  falling  sickness ; 
and  the  teeth  of  poisonous  snakes  which,  carefully  fixed  in  leaves, 
and  stuck  into  the  tubes  of  rushes,  are  regarded  as  powerful  spe- 
cifics against  headache  and  blindness.  Various  salves,  plasters, 
powders,  seeds,  roots,  barks,  &c.,  to  each  of  which  is  attributed 
some  infallible  curative  power,  are  prepared  and  brought  to  mar- 

*  From  Cuzco,  the  ancient  residence  of  the  Incas.  It  was  discovered 
by  the  French  chemists  Corriol  and  Pelletier,  in  the  Cascarilla  which  is 
shipped  in  Arica ;  hence  this  alkaloid  is  also  called  JLricin. 


INDIOS  BRAVOS.  281 


ket  by  the  Indians.  When  the  rainy  season  sets  in  they  leave 
the  forest  and  proceed  in  parties  to  the  mountainous  country. 
On  these  occasions,  contrary  to  the  general  custom  of  the  Indians, 
the  men,  not  the  women,  carry  the  burthens.  They  are  accom- 
panied by  the  women  as  far  as  the  Sierra  ;  for  the  loads,  which 
are  often  very  heavy,  graze  the  backs  of  the  men  who  carry  them, 
and  the  women  then  act  as  surgeons.  The  injured  part  is  first 
carefully  washed  with  copaiba  balsam,  moistened,  then  covered 
with  leaves  fixed  on  with  small  strips  of  leather,  overlaid  with 
the  hide  of  some  forest  animal.  These  operations  being  per- 
formed, the  loads  are  again  fastened  on  the  backs  of  the  Indians. 
In  their  native  forests  these  people  wear  but  little  clothing. 
Their  dress  is  limited  to  a  sort  of  loose  tunic  without  sleeves  for 
the  women,  and  for  the  men  merely  a  piece  of  cloth  fastened 
round  the  waist.  They  go  barefooted  ;  but  they  paint  their  feet 
and  legs  with  the  juice  of  the  Huito  (Genipa  oblongifolia ,  R. 
Pav.)  in  such  a  manner  that  they  seem  to  be  wearing  half-boots. 
The  juice  of  the  Huito  has  the  effect  of  protecting  them  against 
the  stings  of  insects.  The  coloring  adheres  so  strongly  to  the 
skin  that  it  cannot  be  washed  off  by  water ;  but  oil  speedily 
removes  it.  In  the  Sierra  these  Indians  put  on  warmer  clothing, 
and  on  their  feet  they  wear  a  kind  of  boots  called  aspargetas, 
made  of  the  plaited  tendrils  of  plants. 

The  stock  of  balsams  and  drugs  being  disposed  of,  the  Indians, 
after  a  few  months'  absence,  return  to  their  homes.  Some  of 
them,  however,  wander  to  the  distance  of  two  or  three  hundred 
leagues  from  their  native  forests,  traversing  the  greater  part  of 
Peru,  and  even  visiting  Lima,  carrying  large  flask  gourds  filled 
with  balsams.  These  wandering  tribes  seek  frequent  contact  with 
other  nations.  They  are  not  distrustful  and  reserved,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  annoyingly  communicative.  It  is  not  easy  to  dis- 
cover the  cause  of  this  exception,  or  to  ascertain  the  time  when 
the  Indians  began  to  travel  the  country  as  physicians  and  apothe- 
caries. The  earliest  writers  on  the  oldest  epochs  of  Peruvian 
history  make  no  mention  of  this  race  of  medical  pedlars. 

The  Indians  here  alluded  to  all  profess  Christianity,  and  must, 
as  Indios  Christianas,  in  strict  correctness,  be  distinguished  from 
the  wild  Indians,  Indios  Bravos,  who  exclusively  inhabit  the 


282  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


eastern  Montaiias  of  Peru,  towards  the  frontiers  of  Brazil.  These 
Indies  Bravos  comprehend  numerous  tribes,  each  of  which  has 
its  own  customs,  religion,  and  also,  in  general,  its  own  language. 
Only  very  few  of  them  are  known,  for  since  the  overthrow  of  the 
missions  there  is  little  communication  with  them.  Respecting 
the  Indios  Bravos  who  inhabit  the  Montanas  of  Southern  Peru,  I 
have  been  unable  to  collect  any  accurate  information.  They 
remain  quite  unknown,  for  impenetrable  wilds  intervene  between 
them  and  the  civilized  world,  and  seldom  has  a  European  foot 
ventured  into  their  territory.  The  wild  Indians  in  Central  Peru 
are  most  set  against  the  Christians,  particularly  those  called  Iscu- 
chanos,  in  the  Montana  de  Huanta,  and  those  known  by  the 
name  of  Chunchos,  in  the  Montana  de  Vitoc.  The  Iscuchanos 
sometimes  maintain  with  the  inhabitants  of  Huanta  a  trade  of 
barter  ;  but  this  intercourse  is  occasionally  interrupted  by  long 
intervals  of  hostility,  during  which  the  Iscuchanos,  though  rather 
an  inoffensive  race,  commit  various  depredations  on  the  Huanta- 
nos  ;  driving  the  cattle  from  the  pastures,  carrying  off  the  pro- 
duce of  the  soil,  and  spreading  terror  throughout  the  whole  dis- 
trict. Some  years  ago,  when  the  inhabitants  of  Huanta  had 
assembled  for  the  procession  of  the  Festival  of  Corpus  Christi,  a 
troop  of  Iscuchanos  came  upon  them  with  wild  bulls,  turning  the 
infuriated  animals  against  the  procession,  which  was  dispersed, 
and  many  of  the  Huantanos  were  killed  or  severely  wounded. 
These  Iscuchanos  are  so  favored  by  the  locality  of  the  district  they 
inhabit,  that  even  were  a  military  expedition  sent  to  drive  them 
farther  back  into  the  woods,  it  would  probably  be  unsuccessful. 

The  Chunchos  are  far  more  dangerous,  and  are  one  of  the 
most  formidable  races  of  the  Indios  Bravos.  They  inhabit  the 
most  southern  part  of  the  Pampa  del  Sacramento  (the  terra  in- 
cognita of  Peru),  and  chiefly  the  district  through  which  flow  the 
rivers  Chanchamayo  and  Perene.  Those  regions  are  inhabited 
by  a  great  number  of  tribes,  most  of  which  are  only  known  by 
name.  The  frontier  neighbors  of  the  Chunchos  are  the  sangui- 
nary Campas  or  Antes  who  destroyed  the  missions  of  Jesus  Maria 
in  Pangoa,  and  who  still  occasionally  pay  hostile  visits  to  San 
Buenaventura  de  Chavini,  the  extreme  Christian  outpost  in  the 
Montana  de  Andamarca.  The  savage  race  of  the  Casibos,  the 


INDIAN  LANGUAGES.  2S3 

enemies  of  all  the  surrounding  populations,  inhabit  the  banks  of 
the  river  Pachitea.  This  race  maintains  incessant  war  with  all 
the  surrounding  tribes,  and  constantly  seeks  to  destroy  them. 
According  to  the  accounts  of  the  missionaries,  they,  as  well  as 
the  Antes  and  Chunchos,  are  still  cannibals,  and  undertake  war- 
like expeditions  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  prisoners,  whom 
they  devour.  After  the  rainy  season,  when  the  Simirinches,  the 
Amapuahas,  or  Consbos,  hunt  in  the  western  forests,  they  often 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Casibos,  who  imitate  in  perfection  the 
cries  of  the  forest  animals,  so  that  the  hunters  are  treacherously 
misled,  and  being  captured,  are  carried  off  as  victims.  Many 
horrible  accounts  of  this  barbarous  tribe  were  related  by  the  mis- 
sionaries centuries  ago,  when  romantic  stories  and  exaggerations 
of  every  kind  were  the  order  of  the  day ;  but  the  most  recent 
communications  of  the  missionaries  from  Ocopa  confirm  the  fact, 
that  in  the  year  1842,  the  Casibos  continued  to  be  savage  An- 
thropophagi. It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  they  never  eat  women, 
a  fact  which  some  may  be  inclined  to  attribute  to  respect  for  the 
female  sex.  It  is,  however,  assignable  to  a  different  feeling.  All 
the  South  American  Indians,  who  still  remain  under  the  influ- 
ence of  sorcery  and  empiricism,  consider  women  in  the  light  of 
impure  and  evil  beings,  and  calculated  to  injure  them.  Among 
a  few  of  the  less  rude  nations  this  aversion  is  apparent  in  domes- 
tic life,  in  a  certain  unconquerable  contempt  of  females.  With 
the  Anthropophagi  the  feeling  extends,  fortunately,  to  their  flesh, 
which  is  held  to  be  poisonous. 

The  languages  spoken  by  the  wild  Indian  tribes  are  very  vari- 
ous. From  the  Maraiion  to  Omaguas,  Quichua,  the  language  of 
the  Incas,  is  spoken.  On  the  left  bank  of  the  Ucayali  the  dialect 
of  the  Panos  prevails.  On  the  right  bank  the  Cascas,  the  Sina- 
bus,  and  the  Diabus,  preserve  their  own  idioms,  which  are  so 
different  that  those  races  are  reciprocally  unable  to  communicate 
with  each  other.  On  Upper  Ucayali  evidences  of  common  ori- 
gin are  said  to  be  apparent  between  the  Simirinches,  Campas, 
Runaguas,  and  Mochobos.  But  on  this  subject  no  accurate 
conclusions  can  be  formed  ;  for  the  accounts  given  by  the  mis- 
sions in  early  periods  were  very  imperfect,  and  most  of  the 
races  are  so  intractable  that  it  has  since  been  impossible  to  col- 


284  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


lect  correct  information.  According  to  the  accounts  of  travelled 
missionaries  which  I  had  the  opportunity  of  examining  in  the 
convent  of  Ocopa,  it  appears  that,  besides  the  Quichua.  the  idioms 
spoken  by  the  Panos,  Cascas,  Simirinches,  and  the  Chunchos, 
may  be  set  down  as  dialects  of  decidedly  different  origins. 

The  mode  of  living  among  all  these  Indians  is  very  much  the 
same.  War  and  hunting  in  summer,  and  repairing  their  war- 
like weapons  in  winter,  are  the  occupations  of  the  men.  The 
women  cultivate  the  fields,  lay  up  the  stores  of  provisions,  fish, 
spin  and  cook.  Their  clothes  are  of  the  most  simple  kind. 
Many  of  the  races  wear  no  clothing,  and  have  their  bodies  wholly 
or  partially  bedaubed  with  paint.  The  men  of  some  races  wear 
a  kind  of  shirt  without  sleeves,  and  the  women  a  petticoat  reach- 
ing from  the  waist  to  the  knees.  These  garments  are  made  of 
cotton  obtained  from  the  uncultivated  tree  JBombax,  and  their 
color  is  white,  blue,  or  red.  The  custom  of  boring  the  ears, 
the  nose,  and  the  under  lip,  for  the  insertion  of  some  ornament,  is 
much  practised,  particularly  by  the  Panos,  Shipeos,  and  Pirras. 
They  paint  their  bodies,  but  not  exactly  in  the  tattoo  manner ; 
they  confine  themselves  to  single  stripes.  The  Sensis  women 
draw  two  stripes  from  the  shoulder,  over  each  breast,  down  to  the 
pit  of  the  stomach  ;  the  Pirras  women  paint  a  band  in  the  form  of  a 
girdle  round  the  waist,  and  they  have  three  of  a  darker  color 
round  each  thigh.  These  stripes,  when  once  laid  on,  can  never 
be  removed  by  washing.  They  are  made  with  the  unripe  fruit 
of  one  of  the  Rubiacacese.  Some  tribes  paint  the  face  only  ; 
others,  on  the  contrary,  do  not  touch  that  part ;  but  bedaub  with 
colors  their  arms,  feet,  and  breasts. 

In  hunting,  bows  and  arrows  are  the  principal  weapons  used 
by  the  Indians.  In  war  they  use,  besides  bows  and  arrows, 
clubs  and  a  kind  of  sword  made  of  wood.  The  arrows  are  reeds, 
five  or  six  feet  long,  and  of  the  thickness  of  a  finger.  The 
point  is  of  very  hard  wood,  and  is  strongly  barbed  by  notches 
and  with  sharp  fish  teeth  about  three  inches  long.  To  the  other 
extremity  of  the  arrow  colored  feathers  are  always  affixed. 

Among  many  Indians,  particularly  in  the  western  and  north- 
ern districts  of  the  Pampa  del  Sacramento,  the  Pocuna  is  a 
weapon  much  used  in  hunting.  It  is  made  of  a  long  reed,  and 


WARLIKE  WEAPONS  AND  POISONS.  285 

measures  eight  or  ten,  or  even  more,  feet.  At  one  end  are  fixed 
two  teeth  of  a  j  avail,  or  white-lipped  peccary  (Dicotyles  labiatus), 
on  which  the  reed  is  rested  when  taking  aim.  The  arrows, 
which  are  only  one  and  a  half  or  two  inches  long,  are  made  of 
the  thick  part  of  a  strong  cactus  stem.  In  general  their  small 
arrows  are  poisoned,  for  otherwise  the  wound  would  be  too 
inconsiderable  to  kill  even  a  little  bird.  The  poison  for  arrows 
differs  almost  with  every  tribe,  and  very  mysterious  ceremonies 
are  observed  at  its  preparation.  On  this  account  the  art  of  pre- 
paring it,  and  the  ingredients  employed,  are  only  very  partially 
known  to  Europeans.  Their  elements  are  obtained  from  seve- 
ral plants  not  yet  defined  botanically,  among  which  the  Apihuasca 
and  poison  capsicum  are  much  resorted  to.  Infusions  of  the 
leaves  of  a  very  strong  kind  of  tobacco,  and  of  the  SanaHo  ( Ta- 
lernamontana  Sanano,  R.  P.),  andof  Euphorbiacese,  are  also  taken. 
Some  modern  travellers,  contrary  to  the  testimony  of  the  oldest 
writers  on  Peru,  have  asserted  that  no  animal  substance  is  employed 
in  the  poison  for  arrows.  I  am,  however,  enabled  to  state,  on  the 
authority  of  an  Indian  who  had  himself  often  made  the  poison, 
that  not  only  the  black  and  very  poisonous  emmet  (Cryptacereo 
atrato  ajfin),  but  also  the  teeth  of  the  formidable  serpent,  known 
to  the  Indians  by  the  name  of  Miuamaru  or  Jergon  (Lachesis 
picta,  Tsch.),  are  used  for  that  purpose. 

The  wound  of  the  poisoned  arrow  is  fatal  and  rapid.  Men 
and  large  mammalia  die  in  about  four  or  five  minutes  after 
receiving  the  wound ;  the  smaller  mammiferous  animals  and 
birds,  in  two  minutes.  The  blow-reed  sends  these  deadly 
arrows  with  great  certainty  to  the  distance  of  thirty-two  or 
thirty-six  paces.  Hunting  with  the  blow-reed  must  be  long 
practised  in  order  to  acquire  dexterity  in  its  use,  and  great  cau- 
tion is  requisite  to  avoid  being  self- wounded  by  the  small  sharp 
arrows.  An  example  came  to  my  knowledge  in  the  case  of  an 
Indian  who  let  an  arrow  fall  unobserved  from  his  quiver ;  he 
trod  upon  it,  and  it  penetrated  the  sole  of  his  foot ;  in  a  very 
short  time  he  was  a  corpse. 

>,he  club  called  Matusino  is  four  or  five  feet  long,  and  is 
encircled  in  a  spiral  form  at  the  thick  end,  by  a  row  of  deer's 
horns.  A  single  long  horn  is  fastened  in  the  centre,  the  chief 


286  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


use  of  which  is  to  stick  it  in  the  earth  when  the  club  is  rested. 
Only  a  few  races  of  upper  and  lower  Ucayali  and  the  Sensis  use 
this  formidable  weapon,  which  is  very  inconvenient  and  obstruc- 
tive in  passing  through  thick  forests.  The  macana,  or  wooden 
sword,  is  made  of  strong  chunta.  The  color  of  this  wood  is  a 
deep  blackish  brown ;  it  is  very  hard  and  heavy,  and  is  always 
used  for  implements  which  require  great  durability  and  strength. 
The  macana  is  about  four  feet  long,  one  inch  thick,  and  from 
five  to  six  inches  broad  ;  towards  the  hilt  end  the  breadth  is  about 
three  inches,  and  it  is  rounded.  It  is  so  well  cut  and  polished, 
that  a  sabre  scarcely  excels  it  in  sharpness.  The  weapon  is  so 
heavy  that  it  requires  both  hands  to  wield  it. 

There  are  not  only  offensive,  but  also  defensive,  weapons. 
One  of  the  latter  is  the  viche,  a  very  simple  shield,  one  and  a 
half  or  two  feet  in  diameter.  It  consists  of  a  strong  frame  of 
twisted  creeping  plants,  over  which  the  skin  of  a  deer  or  tapir  is 
stretched  and  fastened  with  twine.  On  the  inside  there  are  two 
holds  for  the  arm  ;  the  edge  is  adorned  with  colored  feathers. 

The  Indians  of  the  races  above  noticed  seldom  live  in  villa- 
ges, but  chiefly  in  huts  scattered  through  the  forests.  Sometimes 
they  construct  a  few  of  their  dwellings  near  together,  and  so 
form  a  hamlet.  Their  huts  are  either  quadrangular,  oblong,  or 
circular.  The  walls  consist  of  strong  stems  of  trees,  bound 
together  by  twining  plants  ;  and  the  roof  is  of  palm  leaves  laid 
over  a  skeleton  of  reeds.  The  entrance,  which  is  on  the  side 
opposite  to  the  prevailing  wind,  is  left  open,  and  but  seldom  pro- 
tected by  a  door.  At  Chanchamayo  I  saw  a  very  simple  kind 
of  hut  among  the  Chunchos.  It  resembled  an  open  umbrella 
with  the  handle  stuck  in  the  earth.  The  single  wall,  which  also 
formed  its  roof,  consisted  of  eight  long  reeds :  they  spread  out 
below  in  the  form  of  a  fan,  standing  obliquely  on  the  earth,  and 
fastened  to  three  stems  of  trees.  On  this  simple  skeleton  were 
laid  lengthways  the  leaves  of  the  omero,  a  kind  of  palm.  A 
strong  stem  fixed  firmly  in  the  earth,  extended  obliquely  to  the 
middle  of  the  inner  side  of  the  wall,  and  two  thinner  stems  on 
each  side,  served  as  supports  for  this  frail  building.  According 
to  the  direction  of  the  wind  the  hut  is  turned  round. 

The  Indian  huts  all  stand  detached  from  each  other,  and  they 


MARRIAGE  CEREMONIES.  287 

are  seldom  divided  internally  into  apartments.  They  occupy 
very  little  ground,  never  more  than  sixty  square  feet  of  superfi- 
cies. In  the  principal  settlement  of  an  Indian  race,  the  huts  are 
scattered  over  a  circuit  of  some  miles  in  the  forests. 

Any  form  of  government  is  a  thing  quite  unknown  to  most  of 
the  Indies  Bravos  of  Peru.  Uniformity  of  speech,  manners,  and 
arms,  unite  together  a  number  of  Indians,  who  thus  form  a  race, 
but  there  is  among  them  no  bond  of  subjection,  or  of  duty  to  any 
government,  either  voluntarily  chosen,  or  self-constituted.  Among 
the  inhabitants  of  Lower  Ucayali,  however,  the  oldest,  or  the 
bravest  individuals  of  each  race  are  either  publicly,  or  silently 
recognised  as  chiefs.  Respect  to  age  prevails  only  among  a  few 
of  the  races,  as  the  Setebos,  Mayorhunas,  and  Panos.  Among 
others,  as  the  Campos,  Casibos,  and  Cunchos,  the  old  are  put  to 
death.  It  is  a  general  custom  of  the  wild  Indians  to  kill  their 
aged  prisoners  immediately  on  their  being  captured. 

Social  meetings  among  these  races  are  of  rare  occurrence. 
Gloomy,  reserved,  and  distrustful,  the  Indian  is  only  at  ease  in 
the  circle  he  has  himself  formed.  When,  however,  the  general 
interest  of  the  race  is  in  question,  then  he  comes  boldly  forward 
in  support  of  the  whole.  The  usual  assemblages  are  for  the 
arrangement  of  long  hunting  excursions,  and  warlike  expeditions. 
The  departures  and  the  returns  are  celebrated  by  tumultuous 
feasts,  in  which  intoxicating  drinks  flow  freely.  Most  of  the 
liquors  are  prepared  from  Yucca,  or  the  fruits  of  the  Chunta, 
called  the  Mazato,  or  other  species  of  palms.  In  the  most  remote 
forests,  and  among  the  most  insulated  tribes,  the  preparation  of 
intoxicating  liquors  is  known ;  and  there  certainly  is  not  in  all 
South  America  an  Indian  race  which  is  not  familiar  with  it. 
Wild  dances  form  part  of  the  entertainments,  and  the  banquet 
usually  ends  with  a  sanguinary  battle. 

Marriage  in  most  races  is  celebrated  socially,  but  not  among 
those  in  which  polygamy  prevails.  The  formula  observed  on 
the  occasion  differs  in  different  tribes;  in  some  the  union  is 
effected  under  painful  ceremonies  to  the  bride,  in  others  with  fast- 
ing and  penitential  torments  to  the  bridegroom.  In  general  the 
Indian  selects  a  wife  for  himself.  In  the  greater  number  of 
tribes  a  maiden  is  set  up  as  a  prize,  and  the  young  men  com- 


28S  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


mence  a  life  or  death  contest  for  her.  The  oldest  warriors  are 
arbitrators,  and  from  their  hands  the  conqueror  receives  the 
prize.  This  is  the  practice  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  Rio  de 
Santa  Catalina.  With  them,  as  well  as  with  most  of  the  tribes 
of  Western  Ucayali,  the  birth  of  a  child  is  festively  celebrated. 
The  oldest  individuals  of  the  race  assemble  to  receive  the  child, 
which  is  repeatedly  blown  on  to  drive  demons  and  sickness  away 
from  it ;  the  name  of  an  animal  is  then  given  to  it,  and,  accord- 
ing to  Don  Pedro  Beltran,  the  witnesses  of  the  ceremony  mark 
with  a  wooden  pencil  some  hieroglyphic  characters  on  two  leaves, 
which  are  carefully  preserved,  and  on  the  death  of  the  Indian, 
deposited  in  the  grave  with  him. 

The  dead  are  buried  in  the  huts.  The  survivors  having  tes- 
tified their  sorrow  by  a  melancholy  howl  three  times  repeated, 
leave  the  place  and  build  a  new  residence  for  themselves  in  a 
distant  district.  They  break  in  pieces  all  the  household  furni- 
ture of  the  deceased,  but  they  bury  with  him  his  warlike  weapons 
and  his  agricultural  implements,  under  the  conviction  that  he 
will  use  them  in  the  place  to  which  he  is  going.  A  peculiar 
custom  among  several  races  is  this  :  the  oldest  son  cuts  a  piece 
from  the  heel  of  his  deceased  father,  which  he  hangs  round  his 
neck,  and  wears  as  a  sacred  relic.  Some  of  the  tribes  on  the 
Perene  and  Capanegua  do  not,  like  most  wild  nations,  respect 
the  remains  of  the  dead,  but  throw  the  bodies  into  the  forest 
unburied,  to  be  devoured  by  beasts  of  prey. 

Very  little  is  correctly  known  of  the  religion  of  the  Peruvian 
Indios  Bravos.  All  believe  in  the  existence  of  superior  beings, 
and  distinguish  them  as  good  and  evil ;  and  they  are  accordingly 
venerated  from  gratitude,  or  from  fear.  The  former  they  regard 
as  beneficent ;  but  the  latter  as  having  the  power  of  bringing 
into  exercise  all  the  destroying  forces  of  nature.  These  people, 
therefore,  find  in  the  sky,  in  the  air,  and  on  the  earth,  objects 
for  their  adoration.  Certain  constellations  are  regarded  as 
favorable  phenomena,  while  others  are  looked  at  with  a  secret 
horror.  The  sun  is  by  all  gladly  worshipped,  more  particularly 
by  the  descendants  of  those  who  in  early  times  stood  in  connex- 
ion with  the  Incas.  On  the  other  hand,  they  pay  but  a  reluc- 
tant tribute  to  the  moon,  perhaps  because  by  its  pale  light  fearful 


RELIGION  AND  SUPERSTITIONS.  2£0 

images  are  reflected  around  them  in  the  forests,  and  because  its 
phases  are  to  them  involved  in  impenetrable  mystery.  They 
ascribe  thunder  and  lightning  to  demoniacal  influences,  and  to 
the  same  origin  they  attribute  certain  winds  which  have  an  inju- 
rious influence  on  their  health.  But  their  religious  notions  are 
not  connected  exclusively  with  the  phenomena  of  nature,  which 
are  to  them  inexplicable.  With  all  their  ideas  on  surrounding 
nature,  two  conflicting  principles  are  invariably  connected,  one 
of  which  is  believed  to  be  beneficial,  the  other  injurious  to  them. 
In  the  animals  of  the  forest,  the  plants,  the  stones,  in  everything, 
they  trace  these  beneficent  or  demoniacal  powers.  Every  idea, 
every  action  is  with  them  a  consequence  of  the  influence  of  one 
of  these  two  powers,  and  free  will  is  impossible.  Though  a  rude 
materialism  cripples  the  intelligence  of  these  Indians,  yet  they 
seem  to  be  sensible  of  the  connexion  between  that  which  is  per- 
ceptible to  their  senses,  and  something  higher — something  beyond 
the  sphere  of  corporeal  perception.  But  of  the  nature  of  this 
higher  something  they  have  no  comprehension,  nor  do  they 
endeavor  to  render  to  themselves  any  account  of  it.  They  are 
satisfied  with  an  obscure  idea  of  the  difference  between  the  visi- 
ble and  the  invisible  ;  but  still  this  idea  is  so  contracted  that 
they  always  give  to  the  spiritual  a  corporeal  form :  and  they 
attribute  to  natural  objects  with  which  they  come  most  in  contact, 
the  possession  of  good  or  evil  qualities,  thus  assigning  to  them 
the  nature  of  spiritual  beings. 

None  of  these  tribes  appear,  as  yet,  to  have  advanced  so  far  as 
to  be  impressed  with  the  persuasion  that  the  whole  of  nature  is 
guided  by  unchangeable  laws  over  which  one  will  presides.  In 
general,  they  have  no  idea  of  a  spiritual  unity,  and  are  utter 
strangers  to  the  knowledge  of  one  God.  They  all,  however,  be- 
lieve in  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  They  see  the  lifeless  body, 
they  have  certain  proof  that  the  earthly  integument  is  no  longer 
the  abode  of  the  soul ;  but,  as  they  can  form  no  notion  of  any- 
thing spiritual  entirely  self-existent,  they  imagine  that  their  dead 
will,  in  new  life,  appear  under  a  new  bodily  form.  The  several 
tribes  differ  greatly  in  their  belief  of  the  nature  of  the  metamor- 
phoses which  they  expect  to  take  place.  Those  who  look  for- 
ward to  the  re-appearance  of  the  deceased  in  human  life,  bury 
14 


290  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


with  the  men  hunting  and  agricultural  instruments ;  but  their 
notions  even  on  this  head  are  not  very  clear,  and  when  questioned 
on  the  subject  their  answers  are  very  confused.  They  say  that 
they  are  going  to  a  very  beautiful  place,  far  from  their  present 
dwelling  ;  but,  according  to  their  conception,  it  appears  that  the 
place,  though  distant,  is  still  on  earth.  Those  races  who  believe 
in  metamorphoses  into  the  forms  of  the  lower  animals,  are  per- 
suaded that  the  dead  in  their  new  forms  will  inhabit  the  woods 
around  their  homes,  and  avenge  the  wrongs  they  have  suffered 
during  life.  This  is  the  belief  of  the  inhabitants  of  Upper  Ucay- 
ali  and  Pachitea. 

In  considering  the  physical  formation  of  the  wild  Indians;  we 
may  class  them  according  to  their  natural  divisions,  viz.,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  more  highly  situated  lands,  or  mountains,  and 
those  of  the  low  hot  flat  country.  The  former  dwell  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  hill-chain,  dividing  the  river  territory  of  the 
Iluallaga  and  Ucayali,  and  spreading  to  the  banks  of  the  Chau- 
chamayo,  Perene,  and  Apurimac.  These  are  the  Iscuchanos. 
They  are  rather  tall  and  generally  slim  ;  their  limbs  are  vigor- 
ous ;  their  hands  and  feet  small,  and  in  walking  their  toes  are 
much  turned  in.  The  head  is  proportionally  large,  with  very 
strong  bones ;  the  forehead  is  low,  the  eyes  small  and  animated, 
the  nose  large  and  rather  sharp,  the  cheek-bones  a  little  promi- 
nent. The  mouth  is  not  large,  and  the  lips  are  delicately 
formed,  but  often  disfigured  by  ornaments.  The  ears  are  small, 
quite  the  reverse  of  those  of  the  Indians  of  the  flat  lands.  The 
pointed  chin  is  only  sparingly  covered  with  beard,  which  does 
not  appear  until  advanced  age,  and  on  the  cheeks  there  is  none. 
The  hair  of  the  head  is  long,  stiff,  and  of  a  brilliant  black. 
Many  of  the  tribes  dye  their  hair ;  the  Chunchos  dye  it  red,  and 
the  Antis  are  said  to  dye  it  blue  ;  as  to  the  latter  color  it  appears 
to  me  improbable,  but  I  mention  it  on  the  authority  of  Friar 
Leceta.  The  skin  is  fine  and  soft,  the  color  a  deep  rusty  brown. 
In  speaking  of  the  South  American  Indians,  it  is  usual  to  describe 
their  skin  as  copper  color,  but  this  term  is  incorrect,  for  there 
certainly  is  no  single  tribe  to  which  it  might  be  perfectly  appli- 
cable. It  appears  to  me  that  the  color  of  all  is  much  fainter, 


ANIMAL  WORLD  IN  THE  FORESTS.  291 

and  tending  more  to  brown  or  yellow.  "  Rusty  brown,"  if  the 
expression  may  be  used,  appears  to  me  far  more  descriptive. 

The  second  natural  section  of  the  wild  Indians  inhabits  the 
northern  part  of  the  Pampa  del  Sacramento,  the  banks  of  the 
Ucayali,  and  of  the  Maranon.  They  are  smaller  than  those  just 
described.  There  is  a  certain  peculiarity  in  the  make  of  these 
people  ;  for  though  they  are  broad  over  the  shoulders  yet  their 
chests  are  flat,  and  their  shoulder  blades  lie  low.  Their  limbs 
are  lank,  and  their  hands  rather  small ;  the  soles  of  the  feet  are 
broad  and  flat.  The  face  is  broad,  the  eyes  long  shaped,  the 
pupil  deeply  set,  the  nose  is  flat,  with  large  oblique  nostrils,  and 
the  cheek-bones  are  prominent.  The  mouth  is  wide,  the  lips 
thick,  and  among  some  tribes  the  mouth  and  nose  are  very  close 
together.  The  chin  is  small  and  round,  the  ears  large  and 
standing  out  from  the  head.  The  hair  and  beard  of  these  Indians 
are  the  same  as  in  those  of  the  hilly  country.  The  color  of  the 
skin  varies  much  ;  in  some  it  is  a  light  reddish  brown  •  in  others, 
a  kind  of  yellow,  very  like  that  of  the  Mongols.  The  women  of 
all  these  tribes  are  exceedingly  ugly,  and  far  from  corresponding 
with  the  picture  a  European  imagination  might  form  of  the 
daughters  of  the  aboriginal  forests.  These  women  soon  become 
old,  for  they  not  only  fulfil  female  duties,  but  execute  the  greater 
part  of  those  severer  labors  which  ought  to  fall  to  the  share  of 
the  stronger  sex. 

To  the  above  outline  sketch  of  the  human  inhabitants  of  the 
aboriginal  forests,  I  will  now  add  some  description  of  the  animal 
world,  as  it  came  under  my  observation  in  those  luxuriant  re- 
gions. 

Unlike  the  peaceful  repose  which  presides  over  animal  life  on 
the  level  heights,  are  the  constant  aggressions  and  combats  which 
prevail  in  the  forest  regions.  There  the  strong  attack  the  weak, 
and  the  cunning  inveigle  the  unwary :  strength  and  intelligence, 
caution  and  instinct,  are  unceasingly  in  active  operation.  The 
variegated  forms  and  colors  which  meet  the  eye,  and  the  multi- 
farious cries  and  tones  which  resound  through  the  woods,  form, 
altogether,  the  most  singular  contrast.  The  gold-feathered  coli- 
bri  hums  lightly  through  the  air,  soaring  over  the  heavy,  sombre- 
colored  tapir.  The  sprightly  singing-bird  pours  forth  his  melo- 


292  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


dious  chants  amidst  the  thick  foliage  of  the  aged  trees,  whilst 
the  fierce  ounce,  prowling  for  his  prey,  growls  as  he  passes  over 
their  enormous,  spreading  roots.  Slowly  do  the  eye  and  the  ear 
learn  to  distinguish  individuals  in  the  vast  mass  of  apparent  cha- 
otic confusion,  and  to  recognise  quickly  fleeting  forms,  or  distant 
resounding  sounds. 

The  whole  of  the  animal  world  is  here  developed  to  the  view, 
and  it  would  be  difficult  to  assign  the  predominance  to  any  one 
class.  Yet,  perhaps,  the  variegated  feathered  tribe  is  relatively 
most  extensively  represented.  The  number  of  the  mammalia  is 
also  important.  They  are  seldom  seen  by  the  hunter  during  the 
day,  but  twilight  draws  them  from  their  hiding-places. 

Troops  of  monkeys  skip  from  tree  to  tree,  looking  timidly 
around,  and  uttering  mournful  howls.  Among  them  are  swarms 
of  the  black  marimonda  (Ateles),  with  slender  long  arms  and  red- 
brown  or  black  faces ;  in  some  the  faces  are  encircled  with 
white  hair  (Ateles  marginatus,  Geoff.),  which  gives  them  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  an  old  negro.  Next  is  seen  a  group  of 
silver-grey  monkeys  (Lagothrix  Humboldtii,  Geoff.),  stalking  over 
heaps  of  broken  branches  and  twigs  in  search  of  a  resting-place. 
These  monkeys,  which  are  the  largest  in  South  America,  are 
about  three  feet  high,  and  are  bold  and  vicious.  When  wounded 
they  take  a  position  of  defence  against  the  hunter,  struggling, 
and  uttering  loud  cries,  upon  which  their  companions  hasten 
down  from  the  trees  to  assist  them.  But  soon  a  short  stifled  cry 
is  heard  :  it  is  the  cry  of  mortal  convulsion.  That  sound  drives 
them  instantly  back,  and  they  disperse  in  wild  flight.  The  sly 
sayu  ventures  to  approach  the  dwellings  of  men,  where  he  plun- 
ders maize  fields  with  incredible  dexterity.  The  delicate  silky- 
haired  monkey,  shivering  at  every  cool  breeze  or  shower  of  rain, 
and  starting  at  the  slightest  noise,  creeps  for  shelter  into  the 
thicket,  where  he  lies  peeping  with  his  penetrating  eyes  in  the 
direction  of  the  apprehended  danger. 

At  sunset  swarms  of  bats  flutter  through  field  and  forest  in  all 
directions,  and  greedily  devour  the  insects  which  in  the  twilight 
awaken  to  full  activity.  Some  of  these  bats  (Phyllostoma  has- 
iatum,  Geoff.)  are  remarkable  for  their  expanse  of  wing,  which 
measures  nearly  two  feet.  Others  are  distinguished  for  ugli- 


BEASTS  OF  PREY.  293 


ness  and  for  their  offensive  smell.  These  latter  fly  into  the 
Indian  huts  at  night  and  greatly  annoy  the  inhabitants,  who  can- 
not get  rid  of  them  by  fire  or  smoke,  or  any  other  means,  until 
at  the  midnight  hour  they  retire  of  their  own  accord.  Not  less 
troublesome  are  the  leaf-nosed  bats  (Phytlostoma),  which  attack 
both  man  and  beast.  This  bat  rubs  up  the  skin  of  his  victim, 
from  which  he  sucks  the  blood.  The  domestic  animals  suffer 
greatly  from  the  nocturnal  attacks  of  these  bats,  and  many  are 
destroyed  by  the  exhaustion  consequent  on  the  repeated  blood- 
sucking. The  blood  drawn  by  the  bat  itself  does  not  exceed  a 
few  ounces ;  but  if,  when  satisfied,  it  drops  down  to  the  ground, 
or  flies  away,  the  wound  continues  to  bleed  for  a  long  time,  and 
in  the  morning  the  animal  is  often  found  in  a  very  weak  condi- 
tion, and  covered  with  blood.  One  of  my  mules,  on  which  a 
leaf-nosed  bat  made  a  nightly  attack,  was  only  saved  by  having 
his  back  rubbed  with  an  ointment  made  of  spirits  of  camphor, 
soap  and  petroleum.  The  blood-suckers  have  such  an  aversion 
to  the  smell  of  this  ointment  that  on  its  application  they  ceased  to 
approach  the  mule.  These  bats  are  very  mischievous  in  the 
plantations  of  the  forests,  where  beasts  of  burden  and  horned 
cattle  are  exposed  to  their  attacks.  Whether  they  venture  to 
assail  man  has  been  a  much  disputed  question.  Several  travel- 
lers declare  that  they  do  not.  I  may,  however,  mention  a  case 
which  occurred  within  my  own  knowledge.  A  bat  (Ph.  erythro- 
mos,  Tsch.)  fastened  on  the  nose  of  an  Indian  lying  intoxicated 
in  a  plantation,  and  sucked  so  much  blood  that  it  was  unable  to 
fly  away.  The  slight  wound  was  followed  by  such  severe  inflam- 
mation and  swelling  that  the  features  of  the  Cholo  were  not 
recognisable. 

Many  beasts  of  prey,  and  among  them  some  of  formidable 
strength  and  fierceness,  make  havoc  among  the  other  animals  of 
the  forests.  In  the  lofty  Montafias  the  black  bear  (U.frugilegus, 
Tsch.)  roams  as  wild  as  his  fellow-depredator  of  the  Cordillera. 
He  often  enters  the  maize  fields  of  the  Indians,  breaks  the  stalks 
of  the  plants  and  drags  the  green  tops  away  to  his  hole.  When 
this  bear  cannot  obtain  his  customary  vegetable  food,  consisting 
chiefly  of  the  fruits  of  a  pandanea  (Phytelephas),  he  watches  for 
the  deer  and  wild  boars,  or  attacks  the  oxen  employed  to  turn 


294  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


the  machinery  in  the  sugar-mills  :  he  has  even  been  known  to 
assail  solitary  travellers.  The  lively  coatis  traverse  the  forests 
in  flocks.  They  collect  round  the  roots  of  trees  and  search  for 
the  larvae  of  insects ;  light-footed,  they  climb  up  bush  and  tree 
to  find  birds'  nests,  and  feast  on  the  eggs  and  the  young.  With 
a  monotonous  howl,  not  unlike  that  made  by  some  dogs  on  a  clear 
moonlight  night,  the  yellow-breasted  glutton  (Galictis  larbara, 
Wieg.),  the  omeyro  of  the  Indians,  announces  his  presence. 
But  the  most  fierce  of  all  these  wild  forest  animals  are  those  of 
the  feline  class.  The  spotless  dark-grey  yaguarundi,  not  much 
larger  than  the  wild  cat  of  Europe,  pursues  all  kinds  of  birds, 
particularly  the  pigeon,  the  partridge,  and  the  penelope.  The 
oscollo  (F.  celidogaster,  Tern.),  the  uturunca  (F.  pardalis,  L.), 
and  the  long-tailed,  yellowish-grey  tiger-cat  (jP.  macrourura,  Pr. 
M.),  all  lie  in  wait,  not  only  for  the  weaker  mammalia,  but 
sometimes  they  even  venture  into  the  plantations  and  kill  dogs 
and  poultry.  The  maneless  Mexican  Lion  (the  puma)  roams 
through  the  upper  regions  of  the  forest,  where  he  has  almost 
undisputed  hunting-ground.  He  fearlessly  assails  victims  who 
cannot  effectually  defend  themselves,  such  as  the  horse,  the 
mule,  and  the  ass,  and  he  tears  large  pieces  of  flesh  from  their 
ribs  ;  but  he  does  not  venture  to  meddle  with  oxen.  He  shuns 
men,  and  in  the  forest  he  even  flies  from  the  unarmed  Indian.  I 
fired  at  a  very  large  puma,  which  immediately  fled,  roaring 
loudly.  When  severely  wounded  and  driven  into  a  corner,  this 
animal  frequently  commences  a  combat  of  despair,  and  some- 
times kills  the  hunter.  The  puma  measures  in  length  about 
four  feet,  and  in  height  more  than  two  feet.  More  direful  than 
any  of  the  felines  mentioned  above  is  the  sanguinary  ounce,* 
which  possesses  vast  strength,  and  is  of  a  most  savage  disposi- 
tion. Though  the  favorite  haunts  of  this  animal  are  the  expan- 
sive Pajonales,  yet  he  frequently  takes  up  his  abode  in  the 
vicinity  of  villages  and  plantations,  spreading  terror  among  the 
inhabitants.  Far  from  being  intimidated  at  the  sight  of  men,  he 
often  attacks  individuals,  and  when  pressed  by  hunger  is  not 

*  The  Indian  name  for  this  animal  is  Chaque  chinca.    The  black  variety 
Yana  chinca  is  called  by  the  Spaniards  Tigre  or  Yaguar. 


THE  OUNCE.  295 


afraid,  even  in  broad  daylight,  to  slip  into  the  forest  villages  in 
order  to  carry  off  food,  and  the  booty,  when  once  seized,  is  not 
easily  recovered. 

An  amusing  example  of  this  occurred  in  the  Montana  of  Vitoc. 
An  Indian  one  night  heard  his  only  pig  squeaking  loudly,  as  if 
in  pain.  He  hastened  to  the  door  of  his  hut  to  see  what  was  the 
matter,  and  he  discovered  that  an  ounce  had  seized  the  pig  by 
the  head,  and  was  carrying  it  off.  The  Cholo,  who  determined 
to  make  an  effort  to  recover  his  property,  seized  the  pig  by  the 
hind  legs,  and  endeavored  to  drag  it  from  the  grasp  of  the  robber. 
This  contest  was  kept  up  for  some  time,  the  ounce,  with  his  eyes 
glaring  in  the  darkness,  holding  fast  the  head  of  the  pig,  and  the 
Indian  pulling  it  hard  by  the  legs.  At  length  the  Indian's  wife 
came  to  the  door  of  the  hut  with  a  lighted  fagot,  and  the  scared 
ounce,  with  terrible  bowlings,  slowly  retired  to  the  forest.  In 
general  the  Indians  have  a  great  dread  of  these  animals,  and 
seldom  venture  singly  into  the  parts  they  frequent.  The  ounce 
hunter  is  the  only  one  who  ventures  to  approach  them.  He  is 
armed  with  a  long  spear,  with  which  he  gives  the  ferocious 
animal  a  death-blow.  He  lets  the  ounce  come  within  a  few 
paces  of  him  without  making  the  least  show  either  of  flight  or 
attack.  If,  however,  the  stroke  he  aims  does  not  immediately 
reach  the  seat  of  life,  the  hunter,  in  general,  becomes  the  victim 
of  his  bold  attempt.  Before  he  can  stand  on  his  defence,  the 
wounded  ounce  drags  him  to  the  ground,  and  tears  the  flesh 
from  his  bones. 

Sometimes  the  villagers  collect  their  dogs  together  for  a  gene- 
ral hunt.  They  drive  the  ounce  into  a  place  from  whence  there 
is  no  escape,  or  often  up  a  tree,  where  they  shoot  him  with  long 
arrows  sent  from  their  bows  or  blow-tubes.  In  a  few  places 
snares  are  laid,  or  large  holes  are  dug,  and  a  sharp-pointed  stake 
is  stuck  in  the  middle,  covered  with  stalks  and  branches  of  trees, 
on  which  the  bait  is  laid.  The  ounce  is,  however,  too  cunning 
to  be  easily  caught  in  traps,  and  it  is  only  when  pressed  by  hun- 
ger that  he  can  be  tempted  by  a  bait.  In  some  districts  the 
ounces  have  increased  so  greatly,  and  done  so  much  damage, 
that  the  natives  have  been  compelled  to  remove  and  settle  in 
other  places.  I  need  only  refer  to  the  Quebrada  of  Mayun- 


236  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


marca,  in  the  Montana  of  Huanta,  near  the  road  Jo  Anco.  There 
once  stood  the  little  village  of  Mayumarca,  which  has  been  aban- 
doned for  more  than  a  hundred  years,  as  it  was  found  that  the  jagu- 
ars annually  decimated  the  inhabitants  ;  this  Quebrada  is  still  in 
such  bad  repute  that  not  a  single  Indian  will  venture  into  it. 

There  is  a  black  variety  of  the  ounce,  by  many  erroneously 
regarded  as  a  distinct  species.  It  has  the  identical  marks  of  the 
common  jaguar,  or  ounce,  only  its  color  is  a  dark,  blackish-brown, 
whereby  the  whole  of  the  black  spots  are  rendered  indistinct. 
On  the  lower  banks  of  the  Ucayali  and  the  Maranon  this  dark 
variety  is  more  frequently  rnet  with  than  in  the  higher  forests  ; 
in  the  Montanas  of  Huanta  and  Urubamba  it  is  also  not  uncom- 
mon. It  is  upon  the  whole  larger,  stronger,  and  more  daring 
than  the  lighter  kind,  and  I  have  actually  seen  many  black  skins 
which  exceeded  the  usual  length  ;  but  of  specific  distinctions 
there  is  no  indication.  The  superstitious  Indians  assign  extra- 
ordinary powers  to  everything  that  departs  from  the  common 
course  ;  the  black  ounce  is,  accordingly,  supposed  to  possess 
singular  properties.  The  yana  chinca  holds^i  prominent  place 
in  the  religious  ceremonies  of  some  of  the  Indian  races. 

Turning  from  these  fierce  natives  of  the  forest,  we  will  now 
take  a  glimpse  at  the  peaceful  inhabitants  of  those  umbrageous 
regions.  In  the  hollow  stems  of  trees,  or  among  their  canopied 
branches,  are  found  the  timid  marsupial  animals  (Did.  impavida, 
and  noctivaga,  Tsch.).  These  animals  remain  in  obscure  holes 
until  the  sun  sinks  beneath  the  horizon,  when  they  slip  out  in 
search  of  insects  and  fruit.  Not  unfrequently  they  penetrate 
into  the  slightly  guarded  Indian  huts,  creeping  into  every  corner, 
until  at  last  they  are  caught  in  traps  baited  with  pieces  of  banana 
and  pine-apple.  The  lofty  Terebinthacece,  with  their  walnut- 
like  fruit,  are  inhabited  by  swarms  of  squirrels,  which  strongly 
remind  the  European  of  his  own  woods.  Numbers  of  the  mouse 
family,  from  the  small  tree-mouse  (Drymomys  parvulus,  Tsch.) 
to  the  large,  loathsome,  spinous  rat  (Echinomys  leptosoma,  Wagn.) 
swarm  over  all  the  Montanas,  and  love  to  approximate  to  the 
dwellings  of  man.  These  animals  destroy  the  gathered  harvest, 
and  even  in  these  remote  regions  they  become  a  plague.  It  is 
a  striking  fact,  that  certain  animals  are  almost  inseparable  from 


THE  SLOTH  AND  THE  ARMADILLO.  297 

man.  They  keep  with  him,  or  follow  him  wherever  he  settles. 
The  mouse  genus  is  one  of  these.  On  the  coast,  mice  are  not 
the  same  as  on  the  mountains,  and  in  the  forests  they  are  again 
different.  Everywhere  they  leave  their  original  dwelling-places, 
which  they  exchange  for  an  abode  with  man.  As  the  mouse 
and  the  rat  attack  the  gathered  fruits  of  the  earth,  the  agouti 
preys  on  those  yet  standing  in  the  field.  These  animals  are 
seldom  found  in  the  depths  of  the  forest,  but  more  frequently  on 
its  edge  near  the  chacras  of  the  Indians.  Shortly «be fore  sunset 
they  leave  the  thickets,  and  stealthily  repair  to  the  maize,  yucca, 
and  anana  fields,  where  they  scratch  up  the  root  and  eat  the 
grain  and  fruit ;  but  the  slightest  noise  drives  them  back  to  their 
holes.  In  the  deeper  recesses  of  the  forest  resounds  the  monoto- 
nous, drawling  cry  of  the  sloth.  Here  we  have  a  symbol  of  life 
under  the  utmost  degree  of  listlessness,  and  of  the  greatest  insen- 
sibility in  a  state  of  languid  repose.  This  emblem  of  misery 
fixes  itself  on  an  almost  leafless  bough,  and  there  remains  de- 
fenceless ;  a  ready  prey  to  any  assailant.  Better  defended  is 
the  scale-covered  armadillo,  with  his  coat  of  mail.  Towards 
evening  he  burrows  deep  holes  in  the  earth,  and  searches  for  the 
larvae  of  insects,  or  he  ventures  out  of  the  forest,  and  visits  the 
yucca  fields,  where  he  digs  up  the  well-flavored  roots.  The 
ant-eater  rakes  up  with  his  long  curved  claws  the  crowded 
resorts  of  ants,  stretches  out  his  long,  spiral,  and  adhesive  tongue, 
into  the  midst  of  the  moving  swarm,  and  draws  it  back  covered 
with  a  multitude  of  crawling  insects. 

In  the  soft  marshy  grounds,  or  in  the  damp  shady  recesses  of 
the  forests,  the  heavy  tapir  reposes  during  the  heat  of  the  day  ; 
but  when  the  fresh  coolness  of  evening  sets  in,  he  roves  through 
the  forest,  tears  the  tender  twigs  from  the  bushes,  or  seeks  food 
in  the  grass-covered  Pajonales.  Sometimes  a  multitude  of 
tapirs  sally  from  the  forests  into  the  cultivated  fields,  to  the  great 
alarm  of  the  Indians.  A  broad  furrow  marks  the  tract  along 
which  they  have  passed,  and  the  plants  they  encounter  in  their 
progress  are  trampled  down  or  devoured.  Such  a  visit  is  par- 
ticularly fatal  to  the  coca  fields ;  for  the  tapirs  are  extremely 
fond  of  the  leaves  of  the  low-growing  coca  plant,  and  they  often, 
14* 


298  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


in  one  night,  destroy  a  coca  field  which  has  cost  a  poor  Indian 
the  hard  labor  of  a  year. 

Flocks  of  the  umbilical  hog,  or  peccary,  traverse  the  level 
Montanas.  If  one  of  them  is  attacked  by  the  hunter,  a  whole 
troop  falls  furiously  on  him,  and  it  is  only  by  promptly  climbing 
up  a  tree  that  he  can  escape ;  then,  whizzing  and  grunting, 
they  surround  the  stem,  and  with  their  snouts  turn  up  the  earth 
round  the  root,  as  if  intending  to  pull  down  the  tree  and  so  get 
at  their  enemy.  The  stag  lurks  in  the  thicket  to  withdraw  from 
the  eyes  of  the  greedy  ounce  ;  but  towards  evening  he  leaves 
his  hiding  place,  and  sometimes  strays  beyond  the  boundary  of 
the  forest ;  he  ventures  into  the  maize  fields  of  the  plantations, 
where  he  tarries  until  night  is  far  advanced. 

The  same  diversity  of  nature  and  habits  is  seen  in  the  nume- 
rous hosts  of  birds  that  inhabit  the  leafy  canopies  of  the  forest. 
On  the  loftiest  trees,  or  on  detached  rocks,  eagles,  kites,  and  fal- 
cons, build  their  eyries.  The  most  formidable  of  these  birds  of 
prey,  both  for  boldness  and  strength,  the  Morphnus  harpyia,  Cab., 
darts  down  on  the  largest  animals,  and  fears  not  to  encounter  the 
fiercest  inhabitants  of  the  forest.  The  owl  (Noctua,  Scops, 
Strix),  and  the  goat-milker  (Caprimulgus,  Hydropsalis,  Chordiles), 
fly  with  softly  flapping  wings  to  their  hunting  quarters  to  sur- 
prise their  victims  while  asleep.  In  the  hilly  parts  of  the  Mon- 
tanas the  black  ox-bird  (Cephalopterus  ornatus,  Geoff.),  the  -Toro- 
pishu  of  the  Indians,  fills  the  forest  with  his  distant  bellow,  simi- 
lar to  the  roaring  of  a  bull.  The  Tunqui*  inhabits  the  same  dis- 
trict. This  bird  is  of  the  size  of  a  cock  ;  the.  body  is  bright  red, 
but  the  wings  are  black.  The  head  is  surmounted  by  a  tuft  of 
red  feathers,  beneath  which  the  orange  bill  projects  with  a  slight 
curve.  It  lives  sociably  with  other  birds  in  thickets,  or  among 
Cinchona  trees,  the  fruit  of  which  is  part  of  its  food.  Its  harsh 

*  Rupicola  peruviana,  Ch.  Dum.  The  color  of  the  female  is  reddish 
lirown,  and  she  is  named  by  the  natives  Tunqui  mulato ;  the  male  is 
called  Tunqui  Colorado.  In  some  parts  of  the  Montana  the  Cephalopterus 
ornatus  is  called  Yana  Tunqui.  Thus,  even  the  Indians  have  observed 
the  relationship  of  these  birds,  which,  classed  according  to  our  system  of 
natural  history,  actually  belong  to  one  family,  the  Ampelida.  Their  affi- 
nity is  indicated  very  correctly  by  the  Indian  name. 


CURIOUS  BIRDS.  299 


cry  resembles  the  grunt  of  the  hog,  and  forms  a  striking  contrast 
to  its  beautiful  plumage.  Numberless  fly-catchers  and  shrikes 
Muscicapida  and  Laniada)  hover  on  tree  and  bush,  watching  for 
the  passing  insects,  which  they  snatch  up  with  extraordinary 
dexterity.  Finches  twitter  on  the  summits  of  the  loftiest  trees 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  hunter's  shot :  they  are  distinguished, 
like  the  Ampelidce,  who,  however,  live  amongst  the  lower  bushes, 
by  the  lively  and  almost  dazzling  colors  of  their  feathers.  In 
modest  plumage  of  cinnamon-brown,  with  head  and  neck  of  dark 
olive,  the  Organista*  raises,  in  the  most  woody  parts  of  the 
forest,  her  enchanting  song,  which  is  usually  the  prognostic  of  an 
approaching  storm.  The  tender,  melancholy  strains  and  the 
singular  clearness  of  the  innumerable  modulations  charm  the  ear 
of  the  astonished  traveller,  who,  as  if  arrested  by  an  invisible 
power,  stops  to  listen  to  the  syren,  unmindful  of  the  danger  of 
the  threatening  storm.  On  old  decayed  stumps  of  trees  the  busy 
creeperf  ancf  the  variegated  woodpecker  are  seen  pecking  the 
insects  from  under  the  loose  bark,  or  by  their  tapping  bring  them 
out  of  their  Concealed  crevices  ;  while  the  red-tailed  potter-bird 
(Opetiorynclius  rufaandus,  Pr.  Max.)  builds  his  dwelling  of  pot- 
ter's clay,  or  loam,  as  firmly  as  if  it  were  destined  to  last  for 
ever.  The  pouched  starlingsj  hang  their  nests,  often  four  or 
five  feet  long,  on  the  slender  branches  of  trees,  where  they  swing 
to  and  fro  with  the  slightest  breath  of  wind.  Like  a  dazzling 
flash  of  colored  light  the  colibri  (humming-bird)  appears  and  dis- 
appears. No  combination  of  gorgeous  coloring  can  exceed  that 
which  is  presented  in  the  plumage  of  the  golden-tailed  humming 
or  fly-bird  (Trocliilus  chrysurus,  Cuv.)  which  haunts  the  warm 
primeval  forests,  but  it  is  still  more  frequently  found  in  the  pure 
atmosphere  of  the  ceja-girded  Montaiias.  The  silky  cuckoo 
(Trogon  hettothrix,  Tsch.)  retires  into  the  thickest  masses  of 

*  The  Organistas  of  Peru,  Brazil,  and  Guiana,  &c.,  mentioned  by  so 
many  travellers,  all  belong  to  the  family  of  the  Troglodytinae,  to  the 
two  genera,  Troglodytes,  Vieill,  and  CypJtorhinus,  Cab.  The  Peruvian 
Organista  above  alluded  to,  is  the  Troglodytes  leucophrys,  Tsch.  In  Guiana 
it  appears  to  be  the  Cyphorhinus  carinatus,  Cab. 

f  Xenops,  dnabates,  Dendroc.olaptes,  and  many  other  kinds  of  Capita 
and  Picus. 

\  These  are  different  kinds  of  Cassicus  and  Icterus. 


300  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


foliage,  from  which  its  soft  rose-colored  plumage  peeps  out  like 
a  flower.  The  cry  of  the  voracious  chuquimbis*  accompanies 
the  traveller  from  his  first  steps  in  the  Montanas  to  his  entrance 
into  the  primeval  forests,  where  he  finds  their  relative,  Diosle  <Le.\ 
This  bird  accompanies  its  significant  cry  by  throwing  back  its 
head  and  making  a  kind  of  rocking  movement  of  its  body.  The 
Indians,  who  are  always  disposed  to  connect  superstitious  ideas 
with  the  natural  objects  they  see  around  them,  believe  that  some 
great  misfortune  will  befall  any  one  who  may  shoot  this  bird, 
because  it  utters  the  sacred  word,  Dios.  Long  trains  of  green 
parrots  fill  the  air  with  their  noisy  chattering.  One  kind  of 
these  birds  (Ps.  mercenarius,  Tsch.)  is  remarkable  for  regular 
migrations.  Every  morning  they  sally  forth  in  flocks  from  the 
upper  to  the  lower  forests,  where  they  pass  the  day,  and  they 
regularly  return  before  sunset  to  their  roosting-places.  From 
year  to  year  these  parrots  leave  their  night  quarters  daily  at  the 
same  hour,  and  return  with  equal  punctuality  before  sunset. 
This  regularity  of  departing  and  returning  has  caused  the  natives 
to  give  them  the  name  of  Jornaleros  (day-laborers).  From  the 
depth  of  the  forests  sounds  often  arise  which  resemble  human 
voices,  and  the  astonished  hunter  then  believes  that  he  is  in  the 
vicinity  of  his  companions,  or,  perhaps,  of  hostile  Indians.  He 
eagerly  listens,  and  it  is  only  when  well  acquainted  with  the 
sounds  of  the  winged  inhabitants  of  the  woods  that  he  can  recog- 
nise the  melancholy  tones  of  the  wood-pigeons  (C.  infuscata, 
Licht. ;  C.  melancholica,  Tsch.).  When  day  begins  to  depart, 
groups  of  the  pheasant-like  Hachahuallpaf  assemble,  and  with  the 
cry  of  Ven  acd,  Ven  acd,§  summon  their  distant  companions. 

Not  only  are  the  trees  of  the  forests  peopled  with  myriads  of 
birds,  but  the  earth  has  also  its  feathered  inhabitants,  who  sel- 

*  Kinds  of  Pteroglossus.  Those  most  frequently  met  with  in  the  Mon- 
tanas are  the  Pt.  atrogularis,  Sturm  ;  Pt.  cceruleocinctus,  Tsch.  (Jlula- 
corhynchus,  Orb.)  ;  and  Pt.Derbianus,  Gould. 

•f  Dios  te  de  signifies  May  God  give  it  thee.  The  sound  which  is  inter- 
preted, Dios  te  de  resembles  very  much  the  cry  of  most  of  the  Toucans, 
or  pepper-eaters. 

\  Several  kinds  of  Penelope. 

§  The  cry  of  this  bird  closely  resembles  the  Spanish  words  Ven  acd 
(Come  hither). 


AMPHIBIA  OF  THE  FORESTS.  301 

dom  soar  above  the  level  of  the  soil.  They  build  their  nests 
among  the  roots  and  fallen  branches,  and  depend  for  movement 
more  on  their  feet  than  on  their  wings.  Among  those  members 
of  the  winged  tribe,  who  show  no  disposition  to  soar  into  the 
regions  of  air,  we  find  here  the  turcassa,  a  pigeon  with  richly- 
shaded  plumage  ;  the  beautifully  speckled  toothed  fowl  (Odon- 
tophorus  speciosus,  tsch.),  and  short-tailed  grass  fowl,  or  crake,* 
whose  flesh  when  cooked  is  delicately  white  and  finely  flavored. 
In  marshy  places-  and  on  the  slimy  banks  of  rivers,  the  jabiru 
(Mycteria  americana,  L.)  loves  to  wade,  together  with  the  rose- 
colored  spoon-bill  (Platalea  ajaja,  L.) ;  the  fish-devouring  ibis 
(Tantalus  loculator,  L.),  the  curved-billed  snipe  (Rhynchoea  Hilce- 
rea,  Val.),  the  party-colored  cranes,  plovers,  land- rails,  shrites, 
and  even  sea-swallows. f  In  the  rivers  there  are  ducks  :  these 
birds  are,  perhaps,  carried  down  by  the  currents  from  the  Andes, 
or,  possibly,  they  fly  in  great  trains  from  the  inner  waters  of 
Brazil. 

Of  the  amphibia  in  the  principal  forests  of  Peru,  only  the  great 
fresh-water  tortoise  (Hydraspis  expansa,  Fitz.)  is  useful  to  the 
natives.  On  the  sandy  banks  of  rivers  this  animal  buries  its 
eggs,  from  which  the  Indians  extract  oil  :  its  flesh,  also,  supplies 
well-flavored  food.  All  other  animals  of  this  class  are  objects  of 
terror,  or  at  least  of  aversion,  to  the  Indians.  In  the  warm  sand 
of  the  river  banks,  lies  the  lazy  caiman .J  He  keeps  his  jaws 
wide  open,  only  closing  them  to  swallow  the  innumerable  flies 
which  he  catches  on  his  tongue.  To  the  helplessness  of  these 
animals  when  on  land,  the  natives  have  to  be  thankful  that  they 
are  not  the  most  dangerous  scourges  of  the  forest :  in  water,  their 
boldness  and  swiftness  of  motion  are  fearful.  The  number  of 
lizards  here  is  not  great,  nor  do  they  attain  so  considerable  a 
size  as  in  other  equatorial  regions.  The  serpents  are  to  be 
feared,  and  on  approaching  them,  it  is  not  easy  to  decide  at  the 
first  view  whether  they  belong  to  a  poisonous  or  innoxious  species. 
In  the  forests,  where  the  fallen  leaves  lie  in  thick,  moist  layers, 
the  foot  of  the  hunter  sinks  deep  at  every  step.  Multitudes  of 

*  Seven  species  of  Crypturus. 

f  Sterna  erythrorhynchos,  Prince  Max.,  St.  magnirostris,  Licht. 

\  Champs  a  fissipes,  sclerops  et  nigra,  Wagl. 


302  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


venomous  amphibia  are  hatched  in  the  half-putreseent  vegetable 
matter,  and  he  who  inadvertently  steps  on  one  of  these  animals 
may  consider  himself  uncommonly  fortunate  if  he  can  effect  his 
retreat  without  being  wounded.  But  it  is  not  merely  in  these 
places,  which  seem  assigned  by  nature  for  their  abode,  that  loath- 
some reptiles  are  found :  they  creep  between  the  roots  of  large 
trees,  under  the  thickly  interwoven  brushwood,  on  the  open  grass 
plots,  and  in  the  maize  and  sugar-cane  fields  of  the  Indians  :  nay, 
they  crawl  even  into  their  huts,  and  most  fortunate  is  it  for  the 
inhabitants  of  those  districts  that  the  number  of  the  venomous, 
compared  with  the  innoxious  reptiles,  is  comparatively  small. 
Of  the  poisonous  serpents,  only  a  few  kinds  .are  known  whose 
bite  is  attended  with  very  dangerous  consequences.  The  Miua- 
maru,  or  Jergon  (Lachesis  picta,  Tsch.),  is,  at  most,  three  feet 
long,  with  a  broad,  heart-shaped  head,  and  a  thick  upper  lip.  It 
haunts  the  higher  forests,  while  in  those  lower  down  his  place  is 
filled  by  his  no  less  fearful  relative  Flammon  (Lachesis  rhombeata, 
Prince  Max.),  which  is  six  or  seven  feet  in  length.  These  ser- 
pents are  usually  seen  coiled  almost  in  a  circle,  the  head  thrust 
forward,  and  the  fierce,  treacherous-looking  eyes  glaring  around, 
watching  for  prey,  upon  which  they  pounce  with  the  swiftness 
of  an  arrow ;  then,  coiling  themselves  up  again,  they  look  tran- 
quilly on  the  death-struggle  of  the  victim.  It  would  appear  that 
these  amphibia  have  a  perfect  consciousness  of  the  dreadful 
effect  of  their  poisonous  weapon,  for  they  use  it  when  they  are 
neither  attacked  nor  threatened,  and  they  wound  not  merely  ani- 
mals fit  for  their  food,  but  all  that  come  within  their  reach. 
More  formidable  than  the  two  snakes  just  described,  but  happily 
much  less  common,  is  the  brown,  ten-inch  long  viper.*  It  is 
brown,  with  two  rows  of  black  circular  spots.  The  effect  of  its 
bite  is  so  rapid,  that  it  kills  a  strong  man  in  two  or  three  minutes. 
So  convinced  are  the  natives  of  its  inevitably  fatal  result,  that 
they  never  seek  any  remedy ;  but  immediately  on  receiving  the 
wound,  lay  themselves  down  to  die.  In  the  Montanas  of  Pangoa 
this  viper  abounds  more  than  in  any  other  district,  and  never 

*  Echidna  ocellata,  Tsch.     This  is  the  only  species  of  the  viper  family 
belonging  to  South  America,  as  yet  known. 


POISONOUS  SNAKES. 


without  apprehension  do  the  Cholos  undertake  their  annual  jour- 
ney for  the  coca  harvest,  as  they  fear  to  fall  victims  to  the  bite 
of  this  viper.  The  warning  sound  of  the  rattlesnake  is  seldom 
heard  in  the  hot  Montanas,  and  never  in  the  higher  regions. 

Nature,  who  in  almost  all  things  has  established  an  equi- 
librium, supplies  the  natives  with  remedies  against  the  bite  of  the 
serpent.  One  of  the  cures  most  generally  resorted  to  is  the  root 
of  the  amarucachu  (Polianthes  tuberosa,  L.),  cut  into  slips  and 
laid  upon  the  wound.  Another  is  the  juice  of  the  creeping  plant 
called  vejuco  de  huaco  (Mikania  Huaco,  Kth.),  which  is  already 
very  widely  celebrated.  This  latter  remedy  was  discovered  by 
the  negroes  of  the  equatorial  province,  Choco.  They  remarked 
that  a  sparrow-hawk,  called  the  huaco,  picked  up  snakes  for 
its  principal  food,  and  when  bitten  by  one  it  flew  to  the  vejuco 
and  ate  some  of  the  leaves.  At  length  the  Indians  thought 
of  making  the  experiment  on  themselves,  and  when  bitten  by 
serpents  they  drank  the  expressed  juice  of  the  leaves  of  the  ve- 
juco, and  constantly  found  that  the  wound  was  thereby  rendered 
harmless.  The  use  of  this  excellent  plant  soon  became  general ; 
and  in  some  places  the  belief  of  the  preservative  power  of  the 
vejuco  juice  was  carried  so  far  that  men  in  good  health  were 
inoculated  with  it.  In  this  process  some  spoonfuls  of  the  ex- 
pressed fluid  are  drunk,  and  afterwards  sorne  drops  are  put  into 
incisions  made  in  the  hands,  feet,  and  breast.  The  fluid  is 
rubbed  into  the  wounds  by  fresh  vejuco  leaves.  After  this  ope- 
ration, according  to  the  testimony  of  persons  worthy  of  credit,  the 
bite  of  the  poisonous  snake  fails  for  a  long  time  to  have  any  evil 
effect.  Besides  the  two  plants  mentioned  above,  many  others 
are  used  with  more  or  less  favorable  results.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  Montana  also  resort  to  other  means,  which  are  too  absurd  to 
be  detailed  here ;  yet  their  medicines  are  often  of  benefit,  for 
their  operation  is  violently  reactive.  They  usually  produce  the 
effect  of  repeated  emetics,  and  cause  great  perspiration.  There 
is  much  difference  in  the  modes  of  external  treatment  of  the 
wound,  and  burning  is  often  employed.  I  saw  an  Indian  apply 
to  his  wife's  foot,  which  had  been  bitten,  a  plaster,  consisting  of 
moist  gunpowder,  pulverised  sulphur,  and  finely-chopped  tobacco, 
mixed  up  together.  He  laid  this  over  the  wounded  part  and  set 


304  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


fire  to  it.  This  application,  in  connexion  with  one  of  the  nau- 
sea-exciting remedies  taken  inwardly,  had  a  successful  result. 

Innoxious  snakes*  wind  on  tendriiled  climbing  plants,  or  lie 
like  necklaces  of  coral  on  the  brown  decayed  leaves  (Elap. 
affinis,  Fitz.).  Where  the  branches  of  rivers  enter  the  gloomy 
forests  and  form  little  narrow  lagunes,  over  which  the  high  trees 
spread  in  vaulted  cupolas  almost  impervious  to  the  light  of  day, 
there  dwells  the  powerful  giant  snake  (Eunectes  murinus,  Wagl.), 
called  by  the  Indians,  in  their  figurative  language,  yacumaman, 
"  mother  of  the  waters."  Stretched  in  listless  repose,  or  winding 
round  the  stem  of  an  old  tree,  bathing  her  tail  in  the  cool  lagune, 
she  watches  wistfully  for  the  animals  of  the  forest  who  come  to 
the  waters  to  quench  their  thirst.  Whilst  she  gazes  at  her 
distant  prey,  the  fascinating  power  of  her  eyes  seems  to  subdue 
the  trembling  victim,  and,  unable  even  to  attempt  escape,  he 
falls  an  easy  sacrifice. 

The  amphibia  of  the  frog  species,  which  lie  concealed  in 
silent  repose  during  the  day,  raise,  after  sunset,  their  far-sound- 
ing voices.  The  violet  colored  throat-bladder  (Cystignathus 
silvestris,  Tsch.)  maintains  his  loud,  uniform  croak  beneath  the 
bushes,  or  penetrates  into  the  huts  of  the  inhabitants.  The 
trapichero,  or  sugar-mill  frog,  is  a  large  species,  almost  half  a 
foot  in  length.  Its  croak  resembles  very  much  the  grating 
sound  caused  by  the  working  of  a  sugar  mill,  for  which  reason 
the  natives  have  given  it  the  name  of  trapichero,  or  the  sugar- 
miller.  The  croaking  of  these  frogs,  whose  manifold  tones  blend 
together  in  confused  union,  augments  not  a  little  the  distressing 
dreariness  of  a  forest  night. 

Of  the  numerous  species  of  insects  which  swarm  in  these 
regions,  few  are  remarkable  for  beauty ;  but  many  fix  attention 
by  their  peculiar  habits.  The  bites  and  stings  of  numbers  of 
them  are  very  dangerous,  and  it  requires  much  caution  to  guard 
against  their  attacks. 

Variegated  butterflies  flutter  noiselessly  among  the  spreading 
branches  of  the  trees,  or  sun  themselves  on  the  warm  masses  of 
fallen  leaves.  The  most  remarkable  of  these  butterflies  is  the 

*  Sphenocephalus  melanogenys,  Tsch.  ;  Lygophis  Reginae,  Wagl. ;  L. 
taeniurus,  Tsch. ;  L.  elegans,  Tsch 


STINGING  INSECTS.  305 


large  atlas,  whose  brilliant  blue  tints  shine  out  with  lustrous 
radiance  in  the  dim  light  of  the  forest.  Along  the  banks  of 
rivers,  and  especially  in  hot  marshy  spots,  small  musquitoes  swarm. 
The  bite  of  this  animal  produces  an  intolerable  burning  sensa- 
tion, and  often  causes  considerable  inflammation.  But  more 
troublesome,  and  also  much  more  numerous,  are  the  stinging-flies 
(sancudos).  On  my  first  arrival  in  the  Montana,  I  lay  several 
days  exceedingly  ill  in  consequence  of  severe  swelling  of  the 
head  and  limbs,  caused  by  the  bites  of  these  insects.  To  the 
inhabitant  of  the  forest  the  sancudos  are  an  incessant  torment. 
In  no  season  of  the  year,  in  no  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  is  there 
any  respite  from  their  attacks.  Rubbing  the  body  with  unctuous 
substances,  together  with  the  caustic  juicesof  certain  plants,  and 
at  night  enclosing  one's  self  in  a  tent  made  of  tucuyo  (cotton  cloth), 
or  palm-tree  bast,  are  the  only  means  of  protection  against  their 
painful  stings.  The  clothes  commonly  worn  are  not  sufficient, 
for  they  are  perforated  by  the  long  sting  of  the  larger  species, 
particularly  of  the  much-dreaded  huir-pasimi-sancudo  (Lip-gnat). 
Regularly  every  evening  at  twilight  fresh  swarms  of  these  mis- 
chievous insects  make  their  appearance. 

The  ticks  (ixodes)  are  a  class  of  insects  destined  by  nature  for 
the  suction  of  plants ;  but  they  often  forsake  trees,  shrubs,  and 
grasses,  to  fasten  on  man  and  other  animals.  With  their  long 
sharp  stings  they  make  punctures,  in  which  they  insert  their 
heads,  and  thereby  occasion  very  painful  sores.  These  insects 
appear  to  have  no  preference  for  any  particular  class  of  animals. 
They  are  often  found  on  the  hair  of  dead  mammalia,  and  among 
the  feathers  of  birds  which  have  been  shot ;  even  the  toad,  the 
frog,  and  the  scaly  lizard  are  not  spared  by  them.  Much  more 
troublesome  than  these  insects  are  the  antanas,  which  are  not 
visible  to  the  naked  eye.  They  penetrate  the  surface  of  the 
skin,  and  introduce  themselves  beneath  it,  where  they  propagate 
with  incredible  rapidity;  and  when  some  thousands  of  them 
are  collected  together,  a  blackish  spot  appears,  which  quickly 
spreads.  If  these  insects  are  not  destroyed  when  they  first 
introduce  themselves  into  the  punctures,  they  multiply  with  incal- 
culable rapidity,  destroying  the  skin,  and  all  the  tender  parts  in 
contact  with  it.  Washing  with  brandy,  which  is  often  found  to 


306  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


be  a  remedy  against  the  less  mischievous  isancos,  is  not  sufficient 
for  the  removal  of  the  antanas.  For  their  extirpation  the  only 
effectual  remedy  is  frequently  bathing  the  part  affected  with  a 
mixture  of  spirits  of  wine  and  corrosive  sublimate. 

Who  can  describe  the  countless  myriads  of  ants  which  swarm 
through  the  forests  ?  Every  shrub  is  full  of  creeping  life,  and 
the  decayed  vegetation  affords  harbor  for  some  peculiar  kinds  of 
these  insects.  The  large  yellow  puca-cici  is  seen  in  multitudes 
in  the  open  air,  and  it  even  penetrates  into  the  dwellings.  This 
insect  does  not  bite,  but  its  crawling  creates  great  irritation  to 
the  skin.  The  small  black  yana-cigi,  on  the  contrary,  inflicts 
most  painful  punctures.  A  very  mischievous  species  of  stinging 
ant  is  the  black  sunchiron.  This  insect  inflicts  a  puncture  with 
a  long  sting,  which  he  carries  in  the  rear  of  his  body.  The 
wound  is  exceedingly  painful,  and  is  sometimes  attended  by 
dangerous  consequences.  My  travelling  companion,  C.  Klee, 
being  stung  by  one  of  these  ants,  suffered  such  severe  pain  and 
fever,  that  he  was  for  a  short  while  delirious.  A  few  nights  after- 
wards, a  similar  attack  was  made  on  myself  during  sleep.  It 
suddenly  awoke  me,  and  caused  me  to  start  up  with  a  convulsive 
spring.  I  must  confess  that  I  never,  in  my  whole  life,  expe- 
rienced such  severe  pain  as  I  did  at  that  moment. 

A  most  remarkable  phenomenon  is  exhibited  by  the  swarms 
of  the  species  called  the  naui-huacan-cici,*  the  great  wandering 
ant.  They  appear  suddenly  in  trains  of  countless  myriads,  and 
proceed  forward  in  a  straight  direction,  without  stopping.  The 
small,  the  weak,  and  the  neuters  are  placed  in  the  centre,  while 
the  large  and  the  strong  flank  the  army,  and  look  out  for  prey. 
These  swarms,  called  by  the  natives  Chacus,  sometimes  enter  a 
hut  and  clear  it  of  all  insects,  amphibia,  and  other  disagreeable 
guests.  This  work  being  accomplished,  they  again  form  them- 
selves into  a  long  train,  and  move  onwards.  The  united  force 
of  these  small  creatures  is  vast,  and  there  is  no  approach  to  the 
fabulous,  when  it  is  related  that  not  only  snakes,  but  also  large 
mammalia,  such  as  agoutis,  armadillas,  &c.,  on  being  surprised 

*  From  haul,  the  eye,  huacay,  to  cry,  and  $ i$i,  the  ant ; — so  called  by 
the  Indians,  because  the  pain  of  its  numerous  stings  brings  tears  into  the 
eyes 


COCKROACHES.  307 


by  them,  are  soon  killed.  On  the  light  dry  parts  of  the  higher 
Montanas  we  find  the  large  conical  dwellings  of  the  termes  so 
firmly  built,  that  they  are  impenetrable  even  to  rifle  shot.  They 
sometimes  stand  singly,  sometimes  together,  in  long  lines.  In 
form  they  strongly  resemble  the  simple,  conical  Puna  huts. 

Before  leaving  the  animal  kingdom  of  these  forest  regions, 
which  I  have  here  sketched  only  briefly  and  fragmentally,  I 
must  notice  two  insects,  the  Cucaraclia  and  the  Chilicabra,  species 
of  the  Cockroach  (Blatta).  They  are  exceedingly  numerous  and 
troublesome.  The  Cucaracha,  which  more  particularly  infests 
the  deep  regions  of  the  forest,  is  an  inch  and  a  half  long,  and 
above  half  an  inch  broad ;  it  is  reddish  brown,  with  a  yellow 
neck.  The  Chilicabra,  though  smaller,  is  more  mischievous,  by 
reason  of  its  greater  numbers.  They  settle  in  the  huts,  where 
they  destroy  provisions,  gnaw  clothes,  get  into  beds,  and  into  the 
dishes  at  meal  time.  These  insects  defy  every  precaution 
that  can  be  taken  against  their  tormenting  attacks.  Luckily, 
nature  has  provided  enemies  for  their  destruction.  Among  these 
is  a  small  reddish  yellow  ant,  called  by  the  Indians,  the  Pucchu- 
$ifi,  a  useful  member  of  the  ant  family,  for  it  pursues  and 
destroys  the  mischievous  cockroaches.  There  is  also  a  very 
elegant  little  bird,  called  the  Cucarachero  (Troglodytes  audax, 
Tsch.)  which  wages  war  against  these  insects.  On  seizing  one 
of  them  it  first  bites  off  the  head,  then  devours  the  body,  and 
throws  away  the  tough  wings.  These  operations  being  com- 
pleted, it  hops  to  the  nearest  bush,  and  tunes  its  melodious  song, 
the  sounds  of  which  closely  resemble  the  words  "  Acdbe  la 
tarea  /"  a  name  which  the  Indians  give  to  this  bird.*  I  could 
yet  fill  many  pages  with  descriptions  of  insects  which  are 
dangerous  or  troublesome,  and  among  them  are  included  the 
julus,  measuring  six  inches  in  length,  the  large  black  and  red 
scorpion,  not  forgetting  the  numerous  poisonous  wasps  and  the 
cicadas.  However,  those  which  have  been  noticed  will  suffice 


*  "  Acdbe  la  tarea"  may  be  translated  "  My  task  is  finished."  But  the 
Indians  are  not  very  consistent  in  their  interpretations  of  the  song  of  the 
Cucarachero  ;  for  in  some  districts,  they  contend  that  it  repeats  the  words 
— Casa  te  Soltera,  "  Go  and  get  married,  Maiden." 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


to  afford  an  idea  of  the  ever-active  movements  of  animal   life  in 
the  forests. 

Willingly  would  I  take  a  view  of  the  vegetation  of  the  virgin 
forests,  and  attempt  to  sketch  its  progressive  developments  and 
alternations  from  the  hilly  Montanas  of  the  eastern  declivities  of 
the  Andes  to  the  humid  level  banks  of  the  larger  rivers ;  but  I 
do  not  feel  myself  competent  to  undertake  a  labor  to  which 
former  travellers  intimately  acquainted  with  the  world  of  plants 
have  already  rendered  full  justice.*  Being  devoted  to  the  study 
of  zoology,  and,  unfortunately,  too  little  familiar  with  botany,  I 
have  confined  myself  to  a  description  of  the  general  impression 
produced  by  the  luxuriant  growth  of  the  soil,  without  entering 
into  the  individualities  of  the  vegetation.  In  the  more  highly 
situated  Montafias,  where  the  cinchona  is  found  in  the  place  of 
its  nativity,  the  gigantic  orchidse,  the  numerous  fern  plants,  the 
tree-like  nettles,  the  wonderful  bignonias,  and  the  numerous, 
impenetrable  complications  of  climbing  plants,  powerfully  rivet 
the  attention  of  the  observer.  Lower  down,  in  the  lighter  forest 
soil,  amidst  numerous  shrubs  and  climbers,  the  eye  delights  to 
dwell  on  the  manifold  forms  of  the  stately  palm,  on  the  terebin- 
thacese,  on  the  thickly-leaved  balsam-yielding  leguminosse,  on 
the  luxuriant  laurels,  on  the  pandanese  or  the  large-leaved  heli- 
conias,  and  on  the  solanese,  with  their  gigantic  blossoms  and 
thousands  of  flowers.  Descending  still  further,  the  flat  lands  of 
the  forest  assume  a  dark  and  gloomy  aspect.  The  massive  foli- 
age of  trees  overarches  stems  which  are  the  growth  of  centuries, 
and  form  a  canopy  almost  impervious  to  the  light  of  day.  On 
the  slimy  soil  no  small  shrub  uprears  its  head,  no  flowering  plant 
unfolds  its  blossom.  The  mighty  trees  stand  alone,  and  erect  in 
rows,  like  gravestones  in  a  churchyard  ;  and  the  child  of  dark- 
ness— the  rapidly-shooting  mushroom — finds  genial  nurture  on 
the  warm  humid  earth.  '. 

*  A.  von  Humboldt,  von  Martius,  and,  in  particular,  Poppig,  who  has 
published  a  narrative  of  his  journey  through  Peru,  distinguished  by  its 
precision,  and  written  in  a  style  so  elegant  and  simple  that  its  perusal 
affords  the  utmost  interest  and  pleasure. 


MONTANA  OF  SAN  CARLOS  DE  VITOC.  309 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Montana  of  San  Carlos  de  Vitoc — Villages — Hacienda  of  Maraynioc — the 
Coca  Plant — Mode  of  Cultivating  and  Gathering  it — Mastication  of  Coca 
— Evil  Consequences  of  its  excessive  Use — Its  Nutritious  Qualities — In- 
dian Superstitions  connected  with  the  Coca  Plant — Suggestions  for  its 
Introduction  in  the  European  Navies — Fabulous  animal  called  the  Car- 
bunculo — The  Chunchos — Missions  to  Cerro  de  la  Sal — Juan  Santos 
Atahuallpa — The  Franciscan  Monks — Depopulation  of  Vitoc. 

THE  Montana  of  San  Carlos  de  Vitoc  is,  without  exception,  one 
of  the  most  interesting  districts  of  Peru.  It  has  on  the  one  side, 
and  at  a  short  distance,  the  populous  villages  of  the  Sierra,  and 
on  the  other  it  borders  on  the  forests,  through  which  the  wild  In- 
dians range  in  their  hunting  excursions.  It  was  formerly  the 
principal  key  to  the  missionary  stations  of  the  Pampa  del  Sacra- 
mento, the  Chanchamayo,  Perene,  and  Upper  Ucayali.  It  is  only 
twenty  leagues  distant  from  Tarma,  from  whence  the  road  leads 
through  the  fertile  valley  Acobamba,  to  Palca.  Eastward  of  the 
latter  place  are  the  ruins  of  a  fort,  which  in  former  times  must 
have  been  a  place  of  considerable  importance.  The  wild  Indians 
have  repeatedly  made  hostile  sallies  from  their  forests,  and  it  is 
only  by  this  bulwark,  which,  with  four  small  field-pieces,  com- 
pletely defends  the  narrow  valley,  that  they  have  been  checked 
in  their  advance  on  Tarma.  An  exceedingly  steep  path  runs 
about  a  league  and  a  half  up  the  acclivity ;  then,  becoming  some- 
what more  level,  it  extends  to  the  base  of  the  crest,  which  at  that 
part  is  about  14,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Here  the 
aspect  of  the  Andes  is  by  no  means  so  imposing  as  that  of  the 
Cordillera,  for  the  glaciers  and  steep  rocky  summits  are  wanting. 
The  highest  peaks  rise  only  about  200  feet  above  the  crest.  As 
in  the  Cordillera,  the  eastern  declivity  inclines  much  more  gently 
than  the  western,  but  the  road  is  marshy,  and  is  interspersed 


310  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


with  large  hollows,  into  which  the  mules  often  fall  and  are  Killed. 
After  passing  over  the  Andes,  two  leagues  further,  we  come  to 
the  hacienda  Maraynioc,  where  numerous  herds  of  cattle  are 
kept.  Round  the  hacienda  there  are  potato  plantations,  and  the 
potatoes  reared  here  are  so  excellent,  that  they  are  celebrated 
throughout  the  whole  Sierra.  Every  morning  the  sky  is  ob- 
scured by  heavy  clouds ;  it  rains  regularly  two  days  in  the 
week,  and  there  are  frequent  falls  of  snow  •  yet  notwithstanding 
this  excessive  humidity,  a  bad  harvest  is  an  event  never  to  be 
apprehended.  The  cultivation  of  maize  is,  however,  found  to  be  im- 
practicable here,  for  soon  after  germination  the  ears  rot.  A  small 
stream  flows  past  the  hacienda,  and  after  a  course  of  about  three 
leagues,  it  reaches  the  Montana  de  Vitoc.  Formerly,  the  road 
ran  close  along  the  bank  of  this  stream,  but  in  consequence  of  the 
repeated  depopulation  of  Vitoc,  it  became  neglected,  and  at  length 
impassable.  The  way  is  now  over  the  Cuchillo,  or  sharp  edge 
of  a  mountain  ridge,  and  it  must  be  at  least  four  times  longer  than 
the  course  formerly  taken.  From  Maraynioc  the  road  proceeds, 
for  the  length  of  a  league,  through  a  valley  overgrown  with  brush- 
wood, and  then  rises  to  a  lateral  branch  of  the  Andes,  which  is 
almost  as  high  as  the  main  chain.  The  Indians  call  this  ridge, 
Manam  rimacunan  ("  Thou  shalt  not  speak  !"),  for  a  heavy  wind, 
accompanied  by  drifting  snow,  blows  constantly,  and  renders  it 
scarcely  possible  to  open  the  mouth  to  utter  a  word.  From  Ma- 
narimacunan,  downwards,  to  the  lower  Montana,  the  road  passes 
over  stones  laid  in  echelon  form,  and  through  a  very  slippery  hol- 
low way,  which  descends  rapidly  downward,  and  is  surrounded 
by  almost  impenetrable  woods ;  the  only  open  and  level  place  is 
the  field  of  Chilpes,  which  is  a  few  hundred  paces  long. 

Here  it  is  highly  interesting  to  contemplate  the  rapid  increase 
of  vegetation,  and  the  varied  changes  in  the  animal  world.  From 
the  brink  of  a  ridge  where  only  feeble  vegetation  can  be  seen, 
we  descend  a  few  leagues  and  speedily  find  ourselves  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  Cinchona  tree,  and  in  the  evening  we  are  among  lofty 
palms.  The  first  human  dwellings  seen  oh  entering  the  Montana 
are  half  a  dozen  small  huts,  forming  the  hamlet  Amaruyo,  for- 
merly called  Sibis,  and  immediately  after  we  come  to  the  village 
of  Vitoc.  It  consists  of  about  fifty  wretched  huts,  and  has  a 


VALLEY  OF  VITOC.  3U 


small  church,  in  which  worship  is  performed  twice  a  year  for 
the  inhabitants  of  the  whole  valley. 

Vitoc  is  surrounded  by  two  rivers,  which  unite  in  a  sharp  an- 
gle, called  the  Tingo,  and  which  separate  the  valley  from  the 
territory  of  the  wild  Indians.  The  valley  is  deep,  and  the  sur- 
rounding heights  are  broken  by  many  quebradas.  The  soil  is 
very  fruitful,  and  the  locality  is  less  than  some  others  infested 
with  troublesome  insects ;  yet  it  is  but  scantily  peopled,  for,  be- 
sides the  two  villages  and  the  Hacienda  of  Maraynioc,  already 
mentioned,  it  contains  only  a  few  scattered  chacras.  The  inha- 
bitants of  this,  the  most  favored  district  of  the  Montanas,  scarcely 
amount  to  200.  The  villagers  employ  themselves  chiefly  in  the 
cultivation  of  pines,  which  are  sent  to  Lima.  The  Indians  of 
Palca  and  Tapo  bring  them  potatoes,  salt,  and  butcher's  meat, 
for  which  the  villagers  exchange  their  pine-apples.  The  fruit  is 
conveyed  by  asses  to  the  coast,  where,  however,  it  seldom  arrives 
in  good  condition.  The  other  productions  of  the  Montana  are 
maize,  oranges,  bananas,  paltas,  Spanish  pepper,  &c. ;  but  these 
articles  are  sold  only  in  the  Sierra.  Each  inhabitant  of  the  vil- 
lage cultivates  his  own  piece  of  ground,  which  he  can  enlarge 
when  he  pleases  ;  but  these  people  are  too  indolent  to  devote 
themselves  seriously  to  agriculture.  It  is  only  when  the  governor 
in  Tarma  compels  them  to  pay  the  annual  contribution,  that  they 
make  an  effort  to  augment  their  earnings ;  they  then  seek  a 
market  for  the  products  of  their  cultivation,  and  sell  them  for 
ready  money.  Vitoc  and  some  of  the  villages  in  its  neighbor- 
hood form  altogether  only  one  ecclesiastical  community,  whose 
pastor  lives  in  Tarma  the  whole  year  round.  He  goes  to  Pucara 
only  once  in  six  or  eight  months,  to  read  a  couple  of  masses,  and 
to  solemnize  marriages  and  christenings,  but  chiefly  to  collect 
fees  for  burials  which  may  have  taken  place  during  his  absence. 

The  plantation  of  Pacchapata  is  of  considerable  extent,  but 
produces  very  little.  The  system  of  repartimientos,  already  de- 
scribed, by  which  the  poor  Indian  is  kept  in  a  state  of  slavery  by 
advances  of  clothing,  meat,  brandy,  &c.,  is  practised  in  this  ha- 
cienda to  a  great  extent.  The  laborer  who  is  set  down  in  the 
plantation-book  as  a  debtor  for  ten  or  twelve  dollars,  has  a 
good  chance  of  remaining  during  the  rest  of  his  life  a  tributary 


312  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


slave  ;  for  if  he  tries  by  prolonged  labor  to  relieve  himself  from 
the  debt  the  owner  of  the  plantation  causes  brandy  to  be  made, 
and  this  is  too  great  a  temptation  to  be  resisted  by  an  Indian. 
The  butcher's  meat  given  to  the  laboring  Indians  in  general  con- 
sists of  Chalonas,  that  is,  the  dried  flesh  of  sheep  which  have 
died  in  the  haciendas  of  the  hilly  districts.  For  a  meagre,  tough, 
unwholesome  chalona  the  Indian  has  to  add  a  dollar  and  a  half 
or  two  dollars  to  his  debt,  while  a  living  sheep  in  the  Sierra 
would  not  cost  half  the  price.  It  is  the  same  with  other  articles 
furnished  by  the  haciendas.  European  importations,  such  as 
can  be  purchased  at  very  low  prices  in  the  Sierra,  are  sold  at 
high  profits  by  the  owners  of  plantations  to  the  poor  Indians,  who 
have  to  repay  them  by  long  and  severe  labor. 

At  Pacchapata,  besides  maize,  yuccas,  and  fruits,  sugar,  cof- 
fee, and  coca  are  also  cultivated.  The  sugar-cane  grows  in 
abundance,  and  is  of  good  quality.  An  excellent  kind  of  coffee 
is  grown  here  ;  the  bean  is  slightly  globular,  and  its  color  is  a 
greenish  blue.  In  former  times  the  viceroy  used  to  send  the 
coffee  of  Vitoc  as  a  highly-esteemed  present  to  the  court  of  Ma- 
drid. The  coca  is  also  very  fine,  and  yields  three  harvests  in 
the  year  ;  which,  however,  is  only  the  case  in  a  few  of  the  Mon- 
tanas,  as,  for  example,  at  Pangoa  and  Huanta.  I  may  here  sub- 
join some  notice  of  this  highly  interesting  plant. 

The  coca  (Erytliroxylon  coca,  Lam.)  is  a  shrub  about  six  feet 
in  height,  with  bright  green  leaves  and  white  blossoms.  The 
latter  are  succeeded  by  small  scarlet  berries.  It  is  raised  from 
the  seed,  in  garden-beds  called  almazigas.  When  the  young 
shoots  are  one  and  a  half  or  two  feet  high,  they  are  removed  to 
regularly  laid  out  coca  fields  (cocales),  where  they  are  planted  at 
the  distance  of  about  three  spans  from  each  other.  The  coca  re- 
quires humidity  ;  therefore,  during  the  first  year  or  two  after  it 
is  planted  in  the  fields,  maize  is  sown  between  the  matas,  or 
young  shoots,  to  screen  them  from  the  too  great  influence  of  the 
sun.  When  the  leaves  are  ripe,  that  is  to  say,  when  on  being 
bent  they  crack  or  break  off,  the  gathering  commences.  The 
leaves  are  stripped  from  the  branches,  a  task  usually  performed 
by  women,  and  it  requires  great  care  lest  the  tender  leaves  and 
young  twigs  should  be  injured.  In  some  districts,  the  Indians 


MASTICATION  OF  COCA.  313 

are  so  very  careful  in  gathering  the  coca,  that,  instead  of  strip, 
ping  off  the  leaves,  they  cut  them  from  the  stem  by  making  an 
incision  with  their  nails.  The  plant  thus  rendered  leafless  is 
soon  again  overgrown  with  verdant  foliage.  After  being  gather- 
ed, the  leaves  are  spread  out  on  coarse  woollen  cloths  and  dried 
in  the  sun.  The  color  of  the  leaves  when  dried  is  a  pale  green. 
The  drying  is  an  operation  which  likewise  demands  great  care 
and  attention,  for  if  the  leaves  imbibe  damp,  they  become  dark 
colored,  and  then  they  sell  for  a  much  lower  price  than  when 
they  are  green.  The  dry  coca  is  f.nely  packed  in  woollen  sacks, 
and  covered  with  sand.  These  sacks  are  of  various  sizes  and 
colors,  in  different  parts  of  the  Montailas.  In  Huanuco  they  are 
grey  or  black,  and  when  filled  weigh  from  75  to  80  pounds.  In 
Vitoc  they  are  grey  and  white,  and  contain  150  pounds.  In 
Huanta  and  Anco  they  are  small  in  size,  and  black  or  brown  in 
color,  and  contain  merely  one  aroba.  In  the  Montanas  of  Uru- 
bamba,  Calca,  and  Paucartambo,  the  coca  leaves  are  put  into 
small  baskets  called  cestos,  and  covered  with  sand.  Great  care 
is  also  requisite  in  the  carriage  of  the  coca,  for  if  damp  be  al- 
lowed to  penetrate  the  sack,  the  leaves  become  hot,  or  as  the  na- 
tives express  it,  Se  calientan,  and  are  thereby  rendered  useless. 
The  Indians  masticate  the  coca.  Each  individual  carries  a 
leathern  pouch,  called  the  huallqui,  or  the  chuspa,  and  a  small 
flask  gourd,  called  the  ishcupuru.  The  pouch  contains  a  supply 
of  coca  leaves,  and  the  gourd  is  filled  with  pulverised  unslaked 
lime.  Usually  four  times,  but  never  less  than  three  times  a  day, 
the  Indian  suspends  his  labor,  for  the  purpose  of  masticating 
coca.  This  operation  (which  is  termed  chacchar  or  acullicar)  is 
performed  in  the  following  manner:  some  of  the  coca  leaves,  the 
stalks  having  been  carefully  picked  off,  are  masticated  until  they 
form  a  small  ball,  or  as  it  is  called  an  acullico.  A  thin  slip  of 
damp  wood  is  then  thrust  into  the  ishcupuru,  or  gourd,  and  when 
drawn  out  some  portion  of  the  powdered  lime  adheres  to  it.  The 
acullico,  or  ball  of  masticated  coca  leaves,  is,  whilst  still  lying  in 
the  mouth,  punctured  with  this  slip  of  wood,  until  the  lime  mix- 
ing with  it,  gives  it  a  proper  relish,  and  the  abundant  flow  of  saliva 
thus  excited  is  partly  expectorated  and  partly  swallowed.  When 
the  ball  ceases  to  emit  juice,  it  is  thrown  away,  and  a  new  one  is 
15 


314  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


formed  by  the  mastication  of  a  fresh  mouthfull  of  coca  leaves.  In 
Cerro  de  Pasco,  and  in  places  still  further  south,  the  Indians  use, 
instead  of  unslaked  lime,  a  preparation  of  the  pungent  ashes  of  the 
quinua  (Chenopodium  Quinua,  L.).  This  preparation  is  called 
Llucta  or  Llipta.  In  using  it  a  piece  is  broken  off  and  masticat- 
ed along  with  the  acullico.  In  some  of  the  Montana  regions  the 
Llucta  is  made  from  the  ashes  of  the  musa  root.  The  applica- 
tion of  the  unslaked  lime  demands  some  precaution,  for  if  it 
comes  in  direct  contact  with  the  lips  and  gums,  it  causes  a  very 
painful  burning.  During  a  fatiguing  ride  across  the  level 
heights,  where,  owing  to  the  cold  wind,  I  experienced  a  difficulty 
of  respiration,  my  Arriero  recommended  me  to  chew  coca,  assur- 
ing me  that  I  would  experience  great  relief  from  so  doing.  He 
lent  me  his  huallqui,  but  owing  to  my  awkward  manner  of  using 
it,  I  cauterized  my  lips  so  severely  that  I  did  not  venture  on  a 
second  experiment. 

The  flavor  of  coca  is  not  unpleasant.  It  is  slightly  bitter, 
aromatic,  and  similar  to  the  worst  kind  of  green  tea.  When 
mixed  with  the  ashes  of  the  musa  root  it  is  somewhat  piquant, 
and  more  pleasant  to  European  palates  than  it  is  without  that 
addition.  The  smell  of  the  fresh  dried  leaves  in  a  mass  is  almost 
overpowering ;  but  this  smell  entirely  goes  when  they  are  packed 
in  the  sacks.  All  who  masticate  coca  have  a  very  bad  breath, 
pale  lips  and  gums,  greenish  and  stumpy  teeth,  and  an  ugly 
black  mark  at  the  angles  of  the  mouth.  An  inveterate  coquero, 
or  coca  chewer,  is  known  at  the  first  glance.  His  unsteady  gait, 
his  yellow-colored  skin,  his  dim  and  sunken  eyes  encircled  by  a 
purple  ring,  his  quivering  lips  and  his  general  apathy,  all  bear 
evidence  of  the  baneful  effects  of  the  coca  juice  when  taken  in 
excess.  All  the  mountain  Indians  are  addicted  more  or  less  to 
the  practice  of  masticating  coca.  Each  man  consumes,  on  the 
average,  between  an  ounce  and  an  ounce  and  a  half  per  day,  and 
on  festival  days  about  double  that  quantity.  The  owners  of  mines 
and  plantations  allow  their  laborers  to  suspend  their  work  three 
times  a  day  for  the  chacchar,  which  usually  occupies  upwards  of 
a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  and  after  that  they  smoke  a  paper  cigar, 
which  they  allege  crowns  the  zest  of  the  coca  mastication.  He 
who  indulges  for  a  time  in  the  use  of  coca  finds  it  difficult,  indeed 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  THE  USE  OF  COCA.  315 

almost  impossible,  to  relinquish  it.  This  fact  I  saw  exemplified 
in  the  cases  of  several  persons  of  high  respectability  in  Lima, 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  retiring  daily  to  a  private  apartment  for 
the  purpose  of  masticating  coca.  They  could  not  do  this  openly, 
because  among  the  refined  class  of  Peruvians  the  chacchar  is 
looked  upon  as  a  low  and  vulgar  practice,  befitting  only  to  the 
laboring  Indians.  Yet,  Europeans  occasionally  allow  themselves 
to  fall  into  this  habit ;  and  I  knew  two  in  Lima,  the  one  an  Italian 
and  the  other  a  Biscayan,  who  were  confirmed  coqueros  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  word.  In  Cerro  de  Pasco  there  are  socie- 
ties having  even  Englishmen  for  their  members,  which  meet  on 
certain  evenings  for  the  chacchar.  In  these  places,  instead  of 
lime  or  ashes,  sugar  is  served  along  with  the  coca  leaves.  A 
member  of  one  of  these  clubs  informed  me  that  on  the  few  first 
trials  the  sugar  was  found  very  agreeable,  but  that  afterwards 
the  palate  required  some  more  pungent  ingredient. 

The  operation  of  the  coca  is  similar  to  that  of  narcotics  ad- 
ministered in  small  doses.  Its  effects  may  be  compared  to  those 
produced  by  the  thorn-apple  rather  than  to  those  arising  from 
opium.  I  have  already  noticed  the  consequences  resulting  from 
drinking  the  decoction  of  the  datura.*  In  the  inveterate  coquero 
similar  symptoms  are  observable,  but  in  a  mitigated  degree.  I 
may  mention  one  circumstance  attending  the  use  of  coca,  which 
appears  hitherto  to  have  escaped  notice  :  it  is,  that  after  the  mas- 
tication of  a  great  quantity  of  coca  the  eye  seems  unable  to  bear 
light,  and  there  is  a  marked  distension  of  the  pupil.  I  have  also 
observed  this  peculiarity  of  the  eye  in  one  who  had  drunk  a 
strong  extract  of  the  infusion  of  coca  leaves.  In  the  effects  con- 
sequent on  the  use  of  opium  and  coca  there  is  this  distinction, 
that  coca,  when  taken  even  in  the  utmost  excess,  never  causes  a 
total  alienation  of  the  mental  powers  or  induces  sleep  ;  but,  like 
opium,  it  excites  the  sensibility  of  the  brain,  and  the  repeated 
excitement,  occasioned  by  its  intemperate  use  after  a  series  of 
years,  wears  out  mental  vigor  and  activity. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact,  confirmed  by  long  observation  and  ex- 
perience, that  the  Indians  who  regularly  masticate  coca  require 

*  See  page  189. 


316  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

but  little  food,  and,  nevertheless,  go  through  excessive  labor  with 
apparent  ease.  They,  therefore,  ascribe  the  most  extraordinary 
qualities  to  the  coca,  and  even  believe  that  it  might  be  made 
entirely  a  substitute  for  food.  Setting  aside  all  extravagant  and 
visionary  notions  on  the  subject,  I  am  clearly  of  opinion  that  the 
moderate  use  of  coca  is  not  merely  innoxious,  but  that  it  may 
even  be  very  conducive  to  health.  In  support  of  this  conclusion, 
I  may  refer  to  the  numerous  examples  of  longevity  among  Indians 
who,  almost  from  the  age  of  boyhood,  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
masticating  coca  three  times  a  day,  and  who  in  the  course  of 
their  lives  have  consumed  no  less  than  two  thousand  seven 
hundred  pounds,  yet,  nevertheless,  enjoy  perfect  health.*  The 
food  of  the  Indians  consists  almost  exclusively  of  vegetable  sub- 
stances, especially  roasted  maize  and  barley  converted  into  flour 
by  crushing,  which  they  eat  without  the  admixture  of  any  other 
substance.  The  continued  use  of  this  farinaceous  food  occa- 
sions severe  obstructions,  which  the  well  known  aperient  qualities 
of  the  coca  counteract,  and  many  serious  diseases  are  thereby 
prevented.  That  the  coca  is  in  the  highest  degree  nutritious,  is 
a  fact  beyond  dispute.  The  incredible  fatigues  endured  by  the 
Peruvian  infantry,  with  very  spare  diet,  but  with  the  regular  use 
of  coca ;  the  laborious  toil  of  the  Indian  miner,  kept  up,  under 
similar  circumstances,  throughout  a  long  series  of  years ;  cer- 
tainly afford  sufficient  ground  for  attributing  to  the  coca  leaves, 
not  a  quality  of  mere  temporary  stimulus,  but  a  powerful  nutri- 
tive principle.  Of  the  great  power  of  the  Indians  in  enduring 
fatigue  with  no  other  sustenance  than  coca,  I  may  here  mention 
an  example.  A  Cholo  of  Huari,  named  Hatun  Huamang,  was 
employed  by  me  in  very  laborious  digging.  During  the  whole 
time  he  was  in  my  service,  viz.,  five  days  and  nights,  he  never 
tasted  any  food,  and  took  only  two  hours'  sleep  nightly.  But  at 
intervals  of  two  and  a  half  or  three  hours,  he  regularly  masti- 
cated about  half  an  ounce  of  coca  leaves,  and  he  kept  an  aculli- 

*  I  allude  here  to  individuals  (and  such  cases  are  by  no  means  singular) 
who  have  attained  the  great  age  of  130.  Supposing  these  Indians  to  have 
begun  to  masticate  coca  at  ten  years  old,  and  calculate  their  daily  consump- 
tion as  a  minimum  at  one  ounce,  the  result  is  the  consumption  of  twenty - 
eevin  hundred  weight,  in  120  years. 


MYSTERIOUS  POWER  ASSIGNED  TO  COCA.  317 

co  continually  in  his  mouth.  I  was  constantly  beside  him,  and 
therefore  I  had  the  opportunity  of  closely  observing  him.  The 
work  for  which  I  engaged  him  being  finished,  he  accompanied 
me  on  a  two  days'  journey  of  twenty-three  leagues  across  the 
level  heights.  Though  on  foot,  he  kept  up  with  the  pace  of  my 
mule,  and  halted  only  for  the  chacchar.  On  leaving  me,  he  de- 
clared that  he  would  willingly  engage  himself  again  for  the  same 
amount  of  work,  and  that  he  would  go  through  it  without  food  if 
I  would  but  allow  him  a  sufficient  supply  of  coca.  The  village 
priest  assured  me  that  this  man  was  sixty-two  years  of  age,  and 
that  he  had  never  known  him  to  be  ill  in  his  life. 

The  Indians  maintain  that  coca  is  the  best  preventive  of  that 
difficulty  of  respiration  felt  in  the  rapid  ascents  of  the  Cordillera 
and  the  Puna.  Of  this  fact  I  was  fully  convinced  by  my  own 
personal  experience.  I  speak  here,  not  of  the  mastication  of  the 
leaves,  but  of  their  decoction  taken  as  a  beverage.  When  I  was 
in  the  Puna,  at  the  height  of  14,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  I  drank,  always  before  going  out  to  hunt,  a  strong  infusion 
of  coca  leaves.  I  could  then  during  the  whole  day  climb  the 
heights  and  follow  the  swift-footed  wild  animals  without  ex- 
periencing any  greater  difficulty  of  breathing  than  I  should  have 
felt  in  similar  rapid  movement  on  the  coast.  Moreover,  I  did  not 
suffer  from  the  symptoms  of  cerebral  excitement  or  uneasiness 
which  other  travellers  have  observed.  The  reason  perhaps  is, 
that  I  only  drank  this  decoction  in  the  cold  Puna,  where  the 
nervous  system  is  far  less  susceptible  than  in  the  climate  of  the 
forests.  However,  I  always  felt  a  sense  of  great  satiety  after 
taking  the  coca  infusion,  and  I  did  not  feel  a  desire  for  my  next 
meal  until  after  the  time  at  which  I  usually  took  it. 

By  the  Peruvian  Indians  the  coca  plant  is  regarded  as  some- 
thing sacred  and  mysterious,  and  it  sustained  an  important  part 
in  the  religion  of  the  Incas.  In  all  ceremonies,  whether  religious 
or  warlike,  it  was  introduced,  for  producing  smoke  at  the  great 
offerings,  or  as  the  sacrifice  itself.  During  divine  worship  the 
priests  chewed  coca  leaves,  and  unless  they  were  supplied  with 
them,  it  was  believed  that  the  favor  of  the  gods  could  not  be.  pro- 
pitiated. It  was  also  deemed  necessary  that  the  supplicator  for 
divine  grace  should  approach  the  priests  with  an  Acullico  in  his 


318  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


mouth.  It  was  believed  that  any  business  undertaken  without 
the  benediction  of  coca  leaves  could  not  prosper  •  and  to  the  shrub 
itself  worship  was  rendered.  During  an  interval  of  more  than 
300  years  Christianity  has  not  been  able  to  subdue  the  deep- 
rooted  idolatry ;  for  everywhere  we  find  traces  of  belief  in  the 
mysterious  power  of  this  plant.  The  excavators  in  the  mines  of 
Cerro  de  Pasco  throw  masticated  coca  on  hard  veins  of  metal,  in 
the  belief  that  it  softens  the  ore,  and  renders  it  more  easy  to  work. 
The  origin  of  this  custom  is  easily  explained,  when  it  is  recol- 
lected, that  in  the  time  of  the  Incas  it  was  believed  that  the  Coyas, 
or  the  deities  of  metals,  rendered  the  mountains  impenetrable,  if 
they  were  not  propitiated  by  the  odor  of  coca.  The  Indians, 
even  at  the  present  time,  put  coca  leaves  into  the  mouths  of  dead 
persons,  to  secure  to  them  a  favorable  reception  on  their  entrance 
into  another  world,  and  when  a  Peruvian  Indian  on  a  journey 
falls  in  with  a  mummy,  he,  with  timid  reverence,  presents  to  it 
some  coca  leaves  as  his  pious  offering. 

Soon  after  the  conquest  of  Peru,  when  the  Spaniards  treated  the 
Indians  and  all  their  customs  with  contempt,  coca  became  an 
object  of  aversion  to  the  whites.  The  reverence  rendered  by  the 
natives  to  the  coca  plant  induced  the  Spaniards  to  believe  that  it 
possessed  some  demoniacal  influence.  The  officers  of  the  govern- 
ment and  the  clergy,  therefore,  endeavored,  by  all  possible  means, 
to  extirpate'  its  use,  and  this  is  one  cause,  hitherto  overlooked,  of 
the  hatred  with  which  the  Indians  regarded  the  Spaniards.  In 
the  second  council  held  at  Lima,  in  1567,  coca  was  described 
"  as  a  worthless  object,  fitted  for  the  misuse  and  superstition  of 
the  Indians;"  and  a  royal  decree  of  October  18,  1569,  expressly 
declares  that  the  notions  entertained  by  the  natives  that  coca 
gives  them  strength,  is  an  "  illusion  of  the  devil"  (una  elusion 
del  Demonio).  The  Peruvian  mine  owners  were  the  first  to  dis- 
cover the  importance  of  the  chacchar  in  assisting  the  Indians  to 
go  through  their  excessive  labor,  and  they,  together  with  the 
plantation  owners,  became  the  most  earnest  defenders  of  coca. 
The  consequence  was,  that,  in  defiance  of  royal  and  ecclesias- 
tical ordinances,  its  use  increased  rather  than  diminished.  One 
of  the  warmest  advocates  of  the  plant  was  the  Jesuit  Don  Antonio 
Julian,  who,  in  a  work  entitled,  "  Perla  de  America,"  laments 


COCA  IN  THE  MONTANA  DE  VITOC.  319 

that  coca  is  not  introduced  into  Europe  instead  of  tea  and  coffee. 
"  It  is,"  he  observes,  "  melancholy  to  reflect  that  the  poor  of 
Europe  cannot  obtain  this  preservative  against  hunger  and  thirst ; 
that  our  working  people  are  not  supported  by  this  strengthening 
plant  in  their  long-continued  labors."*  In  the  year  1793,  Dr. 
Don  Pedro  Nolasco  Crespo  pointed  out  in  a  treatise  the  important 
advantages  that  would  be  derived  from  the  use  of  the  coca  plant, 
if  introduced  into  the  European  navies,  and  he  expresses  a  wish 
that  experiments  of  its  utility  in  that  way  could  be  tried.  Though 
it  is  not  probable  that  Dr  Crespo's  wish  will  ever  be  realized,  yet 
there  is  little  doubt  that  the  use  of  coca  as  a  beverage  on  board 
ship  would  be  attended  with  very  beneficial  results.  It  would 
afford  a  nutritious  refreshment  to  seamen  in  the  exercise  of  their 
laborious  duties,  and  would  greatly  assist  in  counteracting  the 
unwholesome  effects  of  salt  provisions.  As  a  stimulant  it  would 
be  far  less  injurious  than  ardent  spirits,  for  which  it  might  be 
substituted  without  fear  of  any  of  the  evil  consequences  experi- 
enced by  the  coqueros.  After  a  long  and  attentive  observation 
of  the  effects  of  coca,  I  am  fully  convinced  that  its  use,  in 
moderation,  is  no  way  detrimental  to  health  ;  an4  that  without 
it  the  Peruvian  Indian,  with  his  spare  diet,  would  be  incapable 
of  going  through  the  labor  which  he  now  performs.  The  coca 
plant  must  be  considered  as  a  great  blessing  to  Peru.  It  is  an 
essential  means  of  preserving  the  nationality  of  the  Indians,  and 
in  some  measure  mitigating  the  melancholy  fate  of  that  once 
great  race  which  disease  and  excessive  labor  now  threaten  to 
destroy. 

In  former  times  the  cultivation  of  coca  in  the  Montana  de  Vitoc 
was  very  considerable.  Upwards  of  4,000  arobas  used  to  be 
annually  forwarded  to  the  market  of  Tarma.  Now  only  fifty 
arobas  are  sent.  Vitoc  produces  no  fodder  for  horses  or 
mules ;  those  animals,  therefore,  are  very  lean  and  feeble  in 
this  district,  and  are  usually  unfit  for  work  after  two  years. 

*  The  worthy  Padre  forgets  the  high  price  that  would  be  charged  for 
coca  in  Europe.  In  Tarma  and  Huenuco  the  aroba  (twenty-five  pounds) 
costs  at  an  average  six  Spanish  dollars;  add  to  this  the  carriage  to  Lima, 
the  freight  to  Europe,  custom-house  duties,  &c.,  and  this  price  would  be 
nearly  doubled. 


320  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Indeed,  they  suffer  so  much  from  the  attacks  of  the  blood-suck- 
ing bat  and  the  gad-fly  (tdbanci),  that  after  being  only  a  few  weeks 
in  the  Montana  de  Vitoc,  their  strength  is  exhausted,  and  they 
are  scarcely  able  to  reach  the  Puna.  Black  cattle,  on  the  con- 
trary, thrive  excellently  ;  but  it  is  not  possible  to  keep  up  herds, 
for  the  young  calves  are  all  devoured  by  the  numerous  animals 
of  prey.  The  llamas,  which  the  Cholos  bring  from  Tapo  to 
Vitoc,  are  so  enfeebled  and  overcome  by  the  journey,  that  on  the 
second  day  after  their  arrival  it  is  often  found  necessary  to  send 
them  to  a  colder  district. 

In  this  Montana  the  large  animals  of  prey  seldom  approach 
human  habitations,  though  sometimes  the  ounce  pays  them  a  visit, 
and  the  Cuguar  descends  from  the  Ceja.  Other  animals  of  the 
feline  genus  are  very  numerous,  and  their  depredations  render  it 
impossible  to  breed  poultry.  Even  the  fabulous  animal,  called 
the  carbunculo,  is  said  to  have  been  seen  oftener  than  once  in 
Vitoc.  In  almost  every  place  I  visited  on  the  coast,  in  the  Sierra, 
and  in  the  Montanas,  extraordinary  stories  concerning  this  animal 
were  related ;  and  many  persons  even  assured  me  they  had  seen 
him.  The  carbunculo  is  represented  to  be  of  the  size  of  a  fox, 
with  long  black  hair,  and  is  only  visible  at  night,  when  it  slinks 
slowly  through  the  thickets.  If  followed,  he  opens  a  flap  or  valve 
in  the  forehead,  from  under  which  an  extraordinary,  brilliant,  and 
dazzling  light  issues.  The  natives  believe  that  this  light  proceeds 
from  a  brilliant  precious  stone,  and  that  any  fool  hardy  person  who 
may  venture  to  grasp  at  it  rashly  is  blinded;  then  the  flap  is  let  down, 
and  the  animal  disappears  in  the  darkness.  Such  are  the  stories 
related  by  the  Indians ;  and  it  appears  that  the  belief  of  the  ex- 
istence of  the  carbunculo  has  prevailed  in  Peru  from  the  earliest 
times,  and  certainly  before  the  conquest,  so  that  its  introduction 
cannot  be  attributed  to  the  Spaniards.  It  is  even  prevalent  among 
many  of  the  wild  Indian  tribes,  by  whom  the  early  missionaries 
were  told  the  stories  which  they  in  their  turn  repeated  about  the 
animal.  As  yet  nobody  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  capture 
such  an  animal,  though  the  Spaniards  always  showed  themselves 
very  desirous  to  obtain  possession  of  the  precious  jewel ;  and  the 
viceroys,  in  their  official  instructions  to  the  missionaries,  placed 
the  carbunculo  in  the  first  order  of  desiderata.  What  animal 


THE  CARBUNCULO.  321 


may  have  served  as  a  foundation  for  those  fabulous  stories,  it  is 
certainly  difficult  to  decide  ;  probably  a  different  one  in  each 
particular  district.  On  the  coast  it  may  have  been  the  anash 
(one  of  the  mephitic  animals),  which  seeks  for  his  food  only  at 
night.  I  have  often  observed  for  a  moment  a  singularly  brilliant 
flashing  in  the  eyes  of  that  animal  when  irritated. 

The  worst  enemies  of  the  delightful  Montana  de  Vitoc  are  the 
wild  Indians,  who  are  only  separated  from  the  Christian  Indians 
by  the  two  rivers  Aynamayo  and  Tullumayo.  They  belong  to 
the  ferocious  race  of  the  Chunchos,  and  in  their  savage  manners 
they  somewhat  resemble  the  Casibos  and  Campas.  They  have 
their  chief  residence  in  Chibatizo,  nine  leagues  from  Pucara. 
Only  three  leagues  from  Pacchapata,  at  the  confluence  of  the 
Chanchamayo  and  Tullumayo,  they  have  a  pretty  large  village  ; 
and  Palmapata,  which  they  temporarily  took  possession  of,  is 
situated  still  nearer.  They  frequently  extend  their  hunting  ex- 
cursions to  the  banks  of  the  great  rivers,  and  make  inroads  upon 
the  territory  of  Vitoc,  cruelly  murdering  all  the  Cholos  they  meet 
with.  Any  kind  of  friendly  intercourse  with  them  is  impracticable. 
I  took  some  pains  to  accomplish  that  object,  but  without  success. 
While  they  were  on  their  hunting  expeditions  I  have  left  in  their 
huts  knives,  fish-hooks,  ear-rings,  and  other  things.  In  return 
for  these  presents  they  left  for  me  some  of  their  edible  roots, 
among  which  were  yuccas,  but  all  were  poisoned,  so  that,  had  we 
not  observed  caution,  I  and  my  venturous  companion,  Klee,  might 
have  fallen  victims  to  the  treachery  of  these  Indians.  The 
Chunchos,  when  on  their  expeditions,  are  almost  in  a  state  of 
nudity.  Sometimes  they  wear  a  short  whitish-brown  shirt  with- 
out sleeves.  This  garment,  when  worn  by  the  chiefs,  is  red. 
Most  of  them  dye  their  hair  with  achote  (Bixa  Orellana,  L.),  a 
deep  vermilion,  and  paint  the  face  and  breast  of  the  same  color. 
Their  weapons  consist  of  a  bow  of  chonta  (Guilielma  speciosa), 
with  which  they  use  two  kinds  of  arrows.  One  kind  are  very 
long,  with  round  points  and  barbs  of  chonta ;  the  others  are 
shorter,  and  have  points  made  of  reed,  which  inflict  deep  wounds, 
very  difficult  to  be  healed.  They  also  use  the  great  wooden 
sword,  the  macana.  A  cross  having  been  put  up  in  the  forest,  they 
fastened  to  it  a  few  days  afterwards  a  macana  and  two  arrows,  as 
15* 


322  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


symbols  of  irreconcilable  enmity  to  Christians.  Their  warlike 
instrument  is  a  reed,  two  feet  long  and  four  inches  broad,  through 
which  their  howlings  resound  in  horrible  discord. 

It  is  a  custom  with  the  inhabitants  of  Vitoc  to  undertake  two 
expeditions  every  year  against  the  Chunchos.  They  are  the  most 
laughable  enterprises  imaginable.  All  the  Cholos  of  the  valley, 
with  the  Alcalde  at  their  head,  or  rather  in  the  midst  of  them, 
proceed,  armed  with  sticks,  axes,  forest  knives,  and  two  muskets,* 
to  explore  the  banks  of  both  rivers.  The  front  ranks  advance 
with  drums  beating,  and  a  number  of  Indians  carry  large  cala- 
bashes filled  with  guarapo,  to  which  they  pay  their  earnest 
devotions  every  half  hour.  When  by  accident  some  of  the 
Chunchos  are  seen,  the  Cholos  fly  with  all  the  rapidity  that  terror 
can  inspire,  and  cannot  be  got  together  again  till  they  reach  their 
village  ;  then  they  raise  a  tremendous  shout,  and  when  safe  in 
their  dwellings  boast  proudly  of  their  heroic  deeds. 

The  Chunchos  are  in  possession  of  a  very  rich  bed  of  salt,  some 
twelve  or  fourteen  leagues  from  Vitoc,  from  whence  they  permit 
the  neighboring  tribes  with  whom  they  are  at  peace,  to  supply 
themselves  with  salt.  Hostile  tribes,  such  as  the  Campas  and 
the  Callisecas,  sometimes  attempt  to  carry  away  salt,  and  then  a 
sanguinary  contest  ensues.  This  stratum  of  salt  comes  from  the 
top  of  a  hill,  called  the  Cerro  de  la  Sal,  and  it  runs  in  the  direc- 
ti6n  from  south-west  to  north-east,  to  the  length  of  nearly  three 
leagues,  covering  a  breadth  of  about  thirty  ells.  The  salt  is 
mixed  with  red  earth.  It  is  probably  a  continuation  of  the  great 
salt  bed  of  Maynas,  stretching  eastward  along  the  left  bank  of 
the  Perene.  It  may  be  presumed  that  it  does  not  extend  as  far 
as  the  immense  Pajonal,  as  the  Campas  go  for  their  salt  to  the 
Cerro  de  la  Sal. 

In  former  times  various  attempts  were  made  to  convert  the 

*  The  whole  valley  of  Vitoc  can  furnish  only  two  muskets,  and  these  are 
in  as  useless  a  state  as  possible.  As  for  powder,  there  is  a  constant  want 
of  it.  During  my  residence  in  Vitoc  I  usually  gave  the  Alcalde  some  of  my 
powder  when  he  went  out  with  his  Cholos,  or  when  there  was  a  firing  on 
festival  days.  The  want  of  a  suitable  number  of  muskets,  and  sufficient 
powder  in  the  dangerous  vicinity  of  the  Chunchos,  is  characteristic  of  the 
improvidence  of  the  inhabitants  of  Vitoc. 


MISSIONS  AND  CONVERSIONS.  323 

Chunchos  to  Christianity  ;  and  these  attempts  were  partially  suc- 
cessful. The  first  missionary  who  ventured  among  them  was 
the  intrepid  Fray  Geronimo  Ximenes.  In  1635  he  penetrated 
from  Huancabamba  to  the  Cerro  de  la  Sal,  and  there  preached 
the  gospel  in  the  language  of  the  people.  He  built  a  chapel,  and 
then  directed  his  course  south-west  to  Vitoc,  where  he  founded 
the  village  San  Buenaventura.  Two  years  after  he  embarked 
on  the  Chanchamayo,  with  the  intention  of  extending  his  mission 
to  the  Campas  tribe,  by  whom  he  was  killed,  together  with  his 
companion,  Fray  Christoval  Larios,  and  twenty-eight  other  Spa- 
niards. Several  missionaries  subsequently  proceeded  to  the 
Cerro  de  la  Sal,  and  found  favor  with  the  natives,  so  that  in  1640 
they  had  no  less  than  seven  villages  of  converted  Chunchos, 
Amagas,  and  Campas ;  but  only  a  few  years  afterwards  all  the 
missionaries  and  soldiers  were  killed  and  the  chapels  were  de- 
stroyed. The  Franciscan  monks,  inspired  by  their  indefatigable 
zeal,  ventured  in  1671,  on  a  new  mission  to  the  fatal  Cerro  de  la 
Sal ;  and  they  had  the  good  fortune  to  found  a  village  in  which 
eight  hundred  Neophytes  were  collected.  A  second  and  smaller 
village  was  founded  in  the  vicinity  of  the  destroyed  San  Buena- 
ventura, and  named  Santa  Rosa  de  Quimiri ;  but  the  avarice  of 
some  Spaniards  who  fancied  there  were  gold  mines  in  the  Cerro 
de  la  Sal,  induced  them  to  get  the  missions  withdrawn  from  the 
superintendence  of  the  priests,  and  to  turn  the  whole  into  a  poli- 
tical system.  Then  commenced  the  oppression  of  the  Indians  in 
those  parts.  The  consequence  was  a  great  insurrection  in  1674, 
when  all  the  whites  were  massacred.  Thus  were  the  labors  of 
the  missionaries  a  second  time  annihilated.  Every  attempt  for 
the  conversion  of  Indians  was  for  a  long  time  fruitless,  and 
the  missionaries  who  ventured  to  approach  them  were  shot. 
After  the  lapse  of  about  thirty  years,  during  which  interval  the 
Chunchos  had  fallen  back  to  their  original  savage  state,  the 
founder  of  the  Convent  of  Ocopa,  Fray  Francisco  de  San  Jose, 
with  four  priests  and  two  lay  brothers,  penetrated  into  the  valley 
of  Vitoc,  and  entered  upon  the  territory  of  the  Chunchos.  At 
this  time  (1709)  Vitoc  was  first  peopled,  and  in  the  course 
of  twenty  years  six  large  villages  were  built.  In  the  year  1739 
these  missions,  again  flourishing,  counted  ten  Christian  villages 


324  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


and  three  thousand  baptized  Indians.  Three  years  afterwards 
the  Indian  insurrection,  headed  by  the  apostate  Juan  Santos,  de- 
stroyed all  the  missions  of  Central  Peru. 

Juan  Santos  was  an  Indian  born  at  Huamanga,  and  he  claimed 
descent  from  the  last  of  the  Incas.  This  claim  was  probably 
well  founded,  for  before  the  revolt  he  was  called  Atahuallpa, 
which  was  the  name  of  the  Inca  put  to  death  by  Pizarro.  Juan 
Santos  was  haughty,  high  spirited,  and  clever.  In  the  year  1741 
he  killed,  in  a  quarrel,  a  Spaniard  of  high  rank,  and  to  elude  the 
pursuit  of  justice,  he  fled  to  the  forests.  There  he  brooded  over 
plans  for  taking  vengeance  on  the  oppressors  of  his  country. 
He  first  addressed  himself  to  the  tribes  of  the  Campas,  and 
having  gained  them  over,  he  proceeded  to  Quisopongo  in  the  Pa- 
jonal.  From  thence,  in  the  year  1742,  he  made  his  first  attack 
on  the  mission  of  the  Cerro  de  la  Sal.  The  Spaniards  had 
already  been  warned  of  the  intended  rising,  but  they  considered 
it  too  unimportant  to  call  for  serious  measures- of  repression  ;  and 
whilst  lulling  themselves  in  their  imagined  security,  they  were 
surprised  and  massacred  by  the  Indians.  The  insurrection 
spread  with  incredible  rapidity.  Juan  Santos  himself  led  all  the 
principal  attacks.  In  one  night  he  took  the  fortress  of  Quimiri 
with  sixty-five  men,  all  of  whom  were  massacred  in  the  most 
cruel  manner.  The  well-defended  fort  of  Paucartambo  was 
next  taken  by  a  small  number  of  Chunchos,  commanded  by  Juan 
Santos.  All  the  Christian  churches  were  destroyed  by  the  insur- 
gents. The  sacred  images  and  the  priests  were  tied  together, 
and  cast  into  the  rivers ;  the  villages  were  burned,  and  the  culti- 
vated fields  laid  waste.  The  number  of  Spanish  soldiers  killed 
in  this  insurrection  was  245  ;  the  number  of  priests,  26.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  weeks  all  the  missions  of  central  Peru  were 
completely  destroyed,  and  terror  spread  even  to  the  mountains. 
The  Spanish  government  found  it  necessary  to  adopt  the  most 
vigorous  measures,  for  there  was  reason  to  fear  that  the  moun- 
tain Indians  would  revolt.  Castles  and  forts  were  built  on  the 
frontiers  of  all  the  Montanas  and  strongly  garrisoned ;  but  the 
insurrection  did  not  extend  further.  The  ultimate  fate  of  Juan 
Santos  Atahuallpa  has  never  been  satisfactorily  ascertained. 
Some  assert  that  he  became  a  powerful  ruler,  and  that  as  long 


FRANCISCAN  AND  DOMINICAN  MONKS.  325 

as  he  lived  the  races  of  the  Chunchos,  Pacanes,  Chichirrenes, 
Campas,  and  Simirinches,  were  united.  On  an  old  manuscript 
in  the  monastery  of  Ocopa  I  found  a  marginal  note,  in  which  it 
was  said,  "  As  to  the  monster,  the  apostate  Juan  Santos  Atahu- 
allpa,  after  his  diabolical  destruction  of  our  missions,  the  wrath 
of  God  was  directed  against  him  in  the  most  fearful  manner. 
He  died  the  death  of  Herod,  for  his  living  body  was  devoured  by 
worms." 

Shortly  after  the  tragical  downfall  of  these  missions,  two  priests, 
Fra  Francisco  Otasua  and  Fray  Salvador  Pando,  visited  the 
ruins  of  Quimiri,  and  endeavored  to  conciliate  the  rebels ;  but 
in  vain.  After  three  months,  during  which  they  suffered  dreadful 
ill  treatment  from  the  Chunchos,  they  returned  to  the  monas- 
tery of  Ocopa. 

These  missionaries  were  all  monks  of  the  order  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. Their  active  zeal  and  heroic  submission  to  any  sacrifice 
in  furtherance  of  the  cause  in  which  they  were  embarked  must 
excite  at  once  astonishment  and  admiration.  Undaunted  by  in- 
credible privations  and  laborious  exertions  in  the  pathless  forests, 
without  food  or  shelter ;  undismayed  by  the  continual  apprehen- 
sion of  a  violent  and  cruel  death,  they  courageously  obeyed  the  in- 
ward impulse  which  inspired  them  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  wild 
Indians.  When  intelligence  was  received  of  the  violent  death 
of  one  of  the  brotherhood,  others  immediately  offered  to  supply 
the  place  of  the  victim,  and  the  superiors  of  the  order  had  much 
difficulty  in  restraining  the  zealous  monks.  In  the  central  and 
northern  missions  of  Peru,  129  Franciscan  monks  were  murder- 
ed by  the  wild  Indians.  Those  who  compose  that  number  are 
recorded  by  name,  but  many  others  disappeared  without  leaving  a 
trace  of  what  had  become  of  them,  and  of  course  they  are  not 
included  in  the  list.  The  number  of  lay  brethren  who  perished 
is  much  greater.  It  is  indeed  melancholy  to  reflect  how  little 
advantage  has  been  obtained  by  the  sacrifice  of  so  many  valu- 
able lives.  The  missions  have  nearly  all  disappeared,  and  the  In- 
dians  have  now  retrograded  into  the  savage  state  in  which  they 
were  before  the  conquest  of  Peru. 

The  Franciscan  monks  were  mild  and  patient  teachers. 
They  proceeded  on  the  principle  of  leaving  the  Christian  re- 


326  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


ligion  to  act  for  itself,  and  they  scorned  to  promote  it  by  any 
kind  of  compulsion.  The  Dominicans,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
came  to  Peru  with  the  conquerors,  preached  Christianity  with  fire 
and  sword.  The  Jesuits,  who  headed  the  missions  of  Southern  Peru, 
adopted  the  one  way  or  the  other,  as  they  found  most  advantage- 
ous to  the  object  they  had  in  view.  By  this  means  they  secured  the 
attachment  of  the  neophytes,  and  retained  most  of  their  conver- 
sions. Many  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  were  highly  intelligent 
and  well-informed  men.  We  are  indebted  to  them  for  important 
geographical  and  statistical  information,  and  in  particular  for  some 
philologicalworks  of  great  value,  viz.,  a  grammar  and  dictionary 
of  the  language  of  every  tribe  they  converted.  The  Dominican 
monks,  who  were  mere  ignorant  fanatics,  sacrificed  to  their  blind 
zeal  for  conversion  all  the  monuments  of  the  early  civilization 
of  the  Peruvians,  and  restrained,  rather  than  promoted,  the  intel- 
lectual development  of  the  people.  The  Franciscans,  animated 
by  pious  inspiration,  earnestly  preached  the  doctrines  of  Christ 
to  the  wild  inhabitants  of  the  distant  forests ;  but  they  communi- 
cated little  information  to  the  rest  of  world.  A  few  imperfect 
maps,  and  some  scanty  notices  on  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Indians,  are  the  whole  amount  of  their  laical  labors. 

In  the  year  1779  an  attempt  was  again  made  to  penetrate  to 
the  Cerro  de  la  Sal,  and  a  road  was  opened  leading  from  Palca 
to  Chanchamayo,  where  a  fort  was  built ;  but  at  the  expiration 
of  five  years  the  government  destroyed  it,  as  continued  irruptions 
of  the  Chunchos  could  not  be  checked.  In  1784,  the  governor 
of  Tarma,  Don  Juan  Maria  de  Galvas,  supported  by  the  Superior 
of  Ocopa,  Fray  Manuel  Sobreviela,  visited  the  valley  of  Vitoc, 
which  had  been  abandoned  since  the  Indian  insurrection.  The 
new  village  of  San  Teodoro  de  Pucara  was  founded,  and  the  de- 
stroyed fort,  Santa  Ana  de  Colla,  was.  rebuilt.  The  Montafia 
was  soon  peopled,  and  in  a  short  time  it  contained  upwards  of 
forty  haciendas  and  large  chacras.  The  village  of  Sorriano, 
scarcely  two  leagues  from  Colla,  was  then  inhabited  by  Chun- 
chos, who  showed  a  willingness  to  maintain  friendly  intercourse 
with  the  occupants  of  Vitoc,  from  whom  they  took  meat,  tools, 
and  other  things,  which  they  repaid  by  agricultural  labor.  Un- 
fortunately, the  plantation  owners  soon  began  to  take  an  undue 


DESOLATION  OF  VITOC.  327 

advantage  of  this  friendly  intercourse,  and  to  charge  exorbitant 
prices  for  the  articles  required  by  the  Indians.  For  a  pin  or  a 
needle  they  demanded  two  days'  work,  for  a  fishing-hook  four, 
and  for  a  wretched  knife,  eight,  ten,  or'  more.  A  rupture  was 
the  consequence.  The  Chunchos  burned  their  own  village,  and 
returned  again  to  Chanchamayo.  Still,  however,  they  continued 
on  a  sort  of  amicable  footing  with  the  Cholos,  until  one  of  the 
latter  wantonly  shot  a  Chuncho  at  a  festival.  The  tribe  then 
mustered  in  thousands  to  avenge  the  murder.  They  destroyed 
the  Christian  villages,  and  massacred  all  the  inhabitants  who 
were  not  able  to  fly.  Thus  was  Vitoc  once  more  depopulated  : 
Cardenas,  the  military  governor  of  Tarma,  made  a  fresh  endeavor 
to  restore  the  cultivation  of  this  fine  valley.  He  made  the  road 
again  passable,  laid  out  the  large  plantation  Chuntabamba, 
built  and  garrisoned  the  Colla  fort.  The  site  of  the  former 
Chuncho  village,  Sorriano,  was  converted  into  a  coca!  (or  coca 
field),  and  the  Montafia  began  once  more  to  assume  a  flour- 
ishing aspect.  Still,  however,  the  Chunchos  continued  to  harass 
their  neighbors,  particularly  during  the  time  of  the  coca  harvest, 
which  could  not  be  gathered  without  military  protection.  During 
one  of  the  harvests  a  laborer  was  shot  by  the  wild  Indians, 
which  so  terrified  the  Cholos,  that  they  all  fled  to  Sorriano. 
Soon  after,_Cardenas  died,  and  the  coco  plantation  being  neglect- 
ed, became  a  waste.  A  few  years  afterwards  the  hacienda  of 
Pacchapata  was  laid  out.  During  the  war  of  independence  the 
Spaniards  destroyed  Fort  Colla,  and  the  inhabitants  of  Vitoc 
were  left  without  any  means  of  defence  against  their  savage 
enemies.  The  last  attempt  to  reduce  the  Chunchos  to  subjection 
and  order  was  made  by  a  military  expedition  under  the  command 
of  General  Don  Francisco  de  Paula  de  Otero,  but  owing  to  ill- 
arranged  plans  it  totally  failed.  No  more  than  twenty-five  years 
have  elapsed  since  the  valley  of  Vitoc,  with  its  rich  plantations, 
was  in  the  most  flourishing  prosperity.  Now  only  faint  traces 
of  its  past  cultivation  are  discernible. 

The  history  of  the  Montana  of  Vitoc  is  the  history  of  all  the 
Montaiias  of  Peru.  In  all,  we  perceive  the  alternate  rise  and 
decline  of  cultivation  and  civilization,  caused  by  the  efforts  of 
the  missionaries,  and  the  incursions  of  the  wild  Indians.  Through- 


328  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


out  all  these  districts  the  present  condition  exhibits  a  marked 
inferiority  to  the  past,  a  circumstance  which  may  be  accounted 
for  by  the  long-continued  civil  war,  during  the  contest  for  inde- 
pendence. Nevertheless,  the  internal  tranquillity  of  the  country, 
and  the  increasing  population,  suggest  favorable  prognostics  for 
the  future. 


PIZARRO'S  LANDING  IN  PERU.  329 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Oppressions  exercised  by  the  Spaniards  upon  the  Peruvian  Indians — The 
Repartimiento  and  the  Mita — Indian  Insurrections — Tupac  Amaru — His 
Capture  and  Execution — War  of  Independence — Character  of  the  Peru- 
vian Indians — Music — Dress  —  Superstitions  —  Longevity — Diminished 
Population  of  Peru — Languages  spoken  by  the  Aboriginal  Inhabitants — 
Specimen  of  Quichua  Poetry — The  Yaravies — The  Quipu — Water  Con- 
duits— Ancient  Buildings — Fortresses — Idols — Domestic  Utensils — An- 
cient Peruvian  Graves — Mode  of  Burying  the  Dead — Mummies. 

A  GLANCE  at  the  history  of  Peru  serves  to  show  that  prior  to  the 
Spanish  conquest  the  Indians  were  the  subjects  of  a  dynasty,  to 
which  they  rendered  willing  obedience.  We  find,  indeed,  an 
uninterrupted  series  of  revolutions  and  wars,  arising  out  of  the 
continued  extension  of  the  empire,  to  which  nations  differing  one 
from  another  in  language,  religion,  and  manners,  were  gradually 
annexed.  For  some  time  after  their  subjugation  these  nations 
struggled  to  recover  their  independence,  but  the  wise  and  mild 
government  of  the  Incas  gradually  restored  peace,  and  esta- 
blished unity.  In  course  of  time,  the  magnitude  of  the  empire 
led  to  its  downfall.  Huayna  Inca-Capac  divided  his  dominions 
between  his  two  sons.  To  the  elder,  Huascar,  he  gave  the 
southern  portion  of  the  empire,  and  to  the  younger,  Atahuallpa, 
he  gave  the  northern  division.  Between  the  two  brothers  there 
arose  disputes,  which  led  to  a  sanguinary  war ;  and  in  that  fatal 
interval,  Pizarro,  with  his  invading  forces,  landed  in  Peru. 
With  a  degree  of  speed,  which  internal  union  among  the  people 
would  have  rendered  impossible,  the  Spaniards  made  themselves 
masters  of  the  country,  massacred  alike  sovereigns  and  subjects, 
destroyed  the  sanctuaries,  and  established  a  new  religion  and 
new  laws.  The  barbarous  cruelties  by  which  that  religion  and 
those  laws  were  upheld  are  too  well  known  to  require  repetition 
here.  Of  the  many  oppressive  measures  to  which  the  Spaniards 


330  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


enforced  submission  from  the  conquered  people,  I  will  briefly 
notice  two  :  the  Repartimiento  and  the  Mita.  The  Repartimi- 
ento  was  the  distribution,  among  the  natives,  of  articles  of  Euro- 
pean production.  These  distributions  were  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  provincial  authorities,  the  corregidores,  and  the 
sub-delegados.  The  law  was  doubtless  intended,  in  its  origin, 
for  the  advantage  and  convenience  of  the  native  Indians,  by  sup- 
plying them  with  necessaries  at  a  reasonable  price.  But,  subse- 
quently, the  Repartimiento  became  a  source  of  oppression  and 
fraud,  in  the  hands  of  the  provincial  authorities.  All  the  corre- 
gidores and  sub-delegados  became  traders.  They  purchased 
consignments  of  manufactured  goods  from  Europe,  at  a  cheap 
rate,  and  sold  them  to  the  Indians  at  exorbitant  prices.  To  add 
to  the  grievance,  the  articles  thus  forced  upon  the  natives  were, 
in  many  instances,  not  necessaries,  but  objects  of  luxury  utterly 
useless  to  them.  Even  more  oppressive  and  cruel  than  the  Re- 
partimiento, was  the  Mita,  which  consisted  of  the  forced  labor  of 
the  Indians  in  the  mines  and  plantations.  Every  Spaniard  who 
wished  to  work  a  mine,  obtained  from  the  corregidor  a  certain 
number  of  Indians,  to  each  of  whom  he  gave  daily  four  reals  as 
wages,  with  the  agreement  of  paying  to  the  government  a  yearly 
tax  of  eight  dollars.  The  condition  of  the  Indians  who  were  dis- 
tributed to  the  plantation  owners  was  even  worse  than  that  of  the 
mine  laborers ;  they  received  only  two  reals  per  day,  and  were 
required  to  work  in  the  fields  from  three  in  the  morning  until 
after  sunset.  The  Indians  employed  in  this  compulsory  labor, 
whether  in  the  mines  or  the  plantations,  were  called  Mitas. 
But  there  was  another  sort  of  forced  labor,  for  which  no  wages 
were  paid.  It  was  indeed  less  toilsome  than  working  in  the 
mines  and  plantations,  yet  the  Indians  employed  in  it  were  fre- 
quently subject  to  much  ill-treatment.  I  allude  to  domestic  ser- 
vice in  the  houses  of  the  corregidores,  sub-delegados,  and  priests. 
The  Indians  thus  employed  were  called  Pongos,  and  they  were 
required  to  continue  in  their  places  for  the  space  of  a  year,  after 
which  they  were  discharged.  A  corregidor  frequently  had  half 
a  dozen  of  these  pongos,  whom  he  provided  with  miserable  food 
and  wretched  clothing.* 

*Even  to  this  day  the  custom  of  forced  domestic  service  is  kept  up 


CORRUPT  LEGISLATION  IN  PERU.  331 

In  the  mines  and  plantations  countless  numbers  of  Indians  were 
annually  swept  away  by  the  excessive  labor  consequent  on  the 
mita.  Some  writers  estimate  at  nine  millions  the  number  of 
Indians  sacrificed  in  the  mines  in  the  course  of  three  centuries. 
This  estimate  is  certainly  too  high  ;  but  three  millions  more  may 
be  added  for  the  number  of  victims  of  the  mita  in  the  plantations. 

That  the  government  in  Spain  should  have  tolerated  this  barba- 
rous system,  so  obviously  calculated  to  bring  ruin  on  the  nation, 
may  naturally  be  matter  of  surprise.  But  a  glance  at  the  In- 
dian laws  (Leyes  de  Indias)  suffices  to  show  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  intentions  of  the  Spanish  government  and  the  corrupt 
legislation  of  the  country.  The  laws  are,  with  some  few  excep- 
tions, conceived  in  a  mild  spirit,  and  show  that  their  framers  had 
in  view  the  well-being  of  the  colonies.  The  execution  of  these 
laws  was  consigned  to  the  superintendence  of  what  was  termed 
the  Indian  council  (Consejo  de  Indias).  This  council  consisted 
of  a  certain  number  of  men  who  resided  in  Spain,  and  who 
either  were  only  in  part  acquainted  with  the  real  state  of  things 
in  South  America,  or  were  bribed  by  Indian  gold  to  wink  at  the 
abuses  committed  there.  From  this  council  were  chosen  the 
viceroys  and  high  authorities  of  the  colonies,  who,  whilst  in  the 
exercise  of  their  official  functions,  amassed  enormous  wealth  by 
unjust  exactions  from  the  Indians.  One  of  the  latest  viceroys 
of  Peru  was  a  man  who  arrived  in  Lima  in  a  state  of  utter  po- 
verty, and  who,  in  the  short  space  of  three  years,  amassed  the 
immense  sum  of  five  millions  of  dollars. 

Could  it  be  matter  of  surprise  if  at  length  the  Indians  rose 
against  their  oppressors,  and  made  an  effort  to  shake  off  the  heavy 
yoke  of  their  tyrants  ?  For  two  hundred  years  they  had  borne 
it  silently,  without  a  single  attempt  to  emancipate  themselves. 
Juan  Santos  Atahuallpa  was  the  first  who  stirred  up  revolt  against 
the  Spaniards.  The  insurrection  which  he  had  headed,  though 
deemed  too  insignificant  to  fix  the  attention  of  the  short-sighted 
government  of  Lima,  nevertheless,  convinced  the  Indians  that 

in  some  parts  of  the  Sierra,  where  the  priest  is  allowed  the  services  of 
a  female  cook,  who  is  called  a  Mita,  and  a  man  servant,  for  whom  the 
name  of  Pongo  is  reserved.  These  servants  are  kept  for  the  space  of  a 
week. 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


they  were  strong  enough  to  make  a  stand  against  their  oppressors. 
Several  partial  risings  in  Southern  Peru  were  speedily  put  down ; 
a  leader  was  wanted  to  organize  the  disconnected  plans  and 
movements  of  the  insurgents.  This  want  was  at  length  supplied 
in  the  person  of  the  ill-fated  Tupac  Amaru,  cacique  of  Tunga- 
suca,  a  descendant  of  the  last  Inca. 

The  event  which  caused  Tupac  Amaru  to  attempt  a  movement 
against  the  Spaniards  occurred  in  1780.  In  that  year,  the  cor- 
regidor  of  Tinta,  Don  Antonio  Ariaga,  made  repartimientos  to 
the  amount  of  340,000  dollars,  and  with  the  most  cruel  rigor 
enforced  payment  of  the  useless  articles  distributed.  The  ca- 
cique of  Tungasuca  assembled  the  irritated  Indians,  who  seized 
the  corregidor  and  hanged  him.  This  was  the  signal  for  a  gene- 
ral rising  in  all  the  neighboring  districts.  The  forces  of  Tupac 
Amaru  augmented  daily.  He  was  invested  with  the  title  of  Inca, 
and  treated  with  the  honors  due  to  sovereignty.  For  several 
months  an  active  war  was  maintained  in  the  Puna,  where  several 
towns  and  villages  were  taken  by  the  insurgents.  Tupac  Amaru 
had  made  himself  master  of  the  village  of  Chucuito,  and  was  pre- 
paring to  advance  upon  Cuzco,  when,  about  the  end  of  April, 
1781,  he,  and  all  his  family,  were  made  prisoners  by  the  Spa- 
niards. He  was  tried  and  condemned  to  death,  together  with  his 
wife,  two  sons,  his  brother-in-law,  and  several  other  individuals 
of  note  among  the  Indians. 

But  the  execution  of  Tupac  Amaru,  which  was  marked  by 
circumstances  of  monstrous  barbarity,  far  from  stemming  the 
tide  of  revolution,  served  only  to  stimulate  the  vengeance  of  the 
insurgents.  They  once  more  mustered  their  warlike  bands, 
under  the  command  of  Casimiro  Tupac  Amaru,  the  brother  of 
the  late  cacique,  his  son  Andres,  and  an  intrepid  Indian  chief, 
named  Nicacatari.  The  latter,  assisted  by  Andres,  burned  seve- 
ral villages  of  Upper  Peru,  and  murdered  all  the  whites.  They 
next  advanced  upon  the  strongly  fortified  town  of  Sorrata,  whither 
the  Spaniards  of  the  surrounding  districts  had  fled  for  protection. 
The  town  was  taken  by  the  insurgents,  and  the  inhabitants, 
22,000  in  number,  inhumanly  put  to  death,  with  the  exception 
of  eighty-seven  priests  and  monks.  The  Indians  then  advanced 
westwards,  defeating  several  Spanish  corps,  and  spreading  terror 


WAR  OF  INDEPENDENCE  333 

and  dismay  through  the  country.  But,  that  which  neither  the 
arms  nor  the  executions  of  the  Spaniards  could  accomplish,  was 
effected  by  their  gold.  A  treacherous  Indian,  bribed  by  the  pro- 
mise of  a  large  reward,  conducted  a  division  of  Spanish  soldiers 
to  the  spot  where  the  chiefs  were  accustomed  to  meet,  unattended 
by  any  guard,  to  hold  their  council.  They  were  surprised,  cap- 
tured, and  condemned  to  death.  Once  more  deprived  of  leaders, 
the  Indians  disbanded  and  withdrew,  some  to  their  homes,  and 
others  into  the  forests.  Numberless  victims  paid  the  debt  of  re- 
tribution to  the  Spanish  government,  which  now  adopted  every 
measure  that  could  tend  to  annihilate  the  nationality  of  the  native 
Indians.  Their  dances,  their  music,  their  dress — all  that  could 
revive  the  remembrance  of  their  progenitors,  was  condemned  to 
rigorous  prohibition  ;  they  were  even  forbidden  the  use  of  their 
mother  tongue,  the  Quichua  language.  The  only  beneficial 
result  of  these  wars,  in  which  upwards  of  a  hundred  thousand 
lives  were  sacrificed,  was  the  abolition  of  the  Repartimientos, 
which  had  been  the  cause  of  the  insurrections. 

Peace  was  now,  at  least  to  appearance,  restored ;  and  if,  occa- 
sionally, symptoms  of  disturbance  arose,  they  were  immediately 
repressed.  This  state  of  things  continued  until  the  Creoles  them- 
selves gave  the  signal  of  revolt,  and  the  War  of  Independence 
broke  out  in  all  the  Spanish  colonies  of  South  America.  In  this 
enterprise  the  Indians  readily  took  part.  But  it  is  a  great  mis- 
take to  suppose  that  the  Indian  natives  made  common  cause  with 
the  Creoles  against  the  Spaniards  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
about  the  present  form  of  government.  They  wished  to  emanci- 
pate themselves  in  order  to  establish  their  own  dynasty  and  a 
government  modelled  after  that  of  their  forefathers.  They 
wanted  not  a  republic,  but  a  monarchy,  and  a  sovereign  chosen 
from  the  sacred  race  of  the  Incas.  Having  no  clear  comprehen- 
sion of  the  real  object  of  the  War  of  Independence,  the  Indians, 
when  they  saw  whites  fighting  against  whites,  directed  their 
hostility  against  all  Pucacuncas  (pale  faces)  without  distinction, 
killing  loyalists  or  patriots,  just  as  they  happened  to  fall  in  their 
way.  This  hatred  was  so  bitterly  manifested,  that  in  some  pro- 
vinces all  the  whites  and  mestizos  were  obliged  to  fly,  even 
though  they  were  the  most  decided  enemies  of  the  Spanish  loyal- 


334  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


ists.  In  Jauja  the  Indians  vowed  not  to  leave  even  a  white  dog 
or  a  white  fowl  alive,  and  they  even  scraped  the  whitewash  from 
the  walls  of  the  houses. 

The  provisional  government  ordered  levies  of  troops  to  be  made 
in  the  provinces  which  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  patriots ; 
and  then,  for  the  first  time,  Indians  were  enrolled  in  the  army  as 
regular  troops.  But  it  was  only  in  a  very  few  districts  that  they 
voluntarily  took  part  in  the  conflict  for  independence :  they  per- 
formed the  forced  service  of  conscripts,  and  wheneyer  an  oppor- 
tunity enabled  them  to  retire  from  it,  they  did  so.  The  Spanish 
dominion  being  overthrown,  the  war  terminated,  and  a  republican 
constitution  was  established.  The  Indians  then  clearly  perceived 
that  they  had  been  made  the  tools  of  the  leaders  of  the  revolution. 
Upon  the  whole,  their  condition  was  but  little  improved ;  for  if 
they  were  relieved  from  some  oppressive  laws,  other  hardships 
weighed  heavily  on  them,  and  they  found  that  they  still  were 
slaves  in  the  land  of  their  fathers.  The  Creoles,  like  the 
Spaniards,  will  draw  the  string  of  despotism  till  it  snaps.  Then 
will  arise  another  Indian  insurrection  like  that  headed  by  Tupac 
Amaru,  but  with  a  more  successful  result.  After  a  fearful 
struggle,  they  may  reconquer  their  fatherland,  and  re-establish 
their  ancient  constitution  ;  and  can  it  be  matter  of  surprise  if  they 
wreak  cruel  vengeance  on  the  enemies  of  their  race  ? 

Since  the  War  of  Independence,  the  Indians  have  made  im- 
mense progress.  During  the  civil  war,  which  was  kept  up 
uninterruptedly  for  the  space  of  twenty  years,  they  were  taught 
military  manoeuvres  and  the  use  of  fire-arms.  After  every  lost 
battle  the  retreating  Indians  carried  with  them  in  their  flight  their 
muskets,  which  they  still  keep  carefully  concealed.  They  are 
also  acquainted  with  the  manufacture  of  gunpowder,  of  which  in 
all  their  festivals  they  use  great  quantities  for  squibs  and  rockets. 
The  materials  for  the  preparation  of  gunpowder  are  found  in 
abundance  in  the  valleys  of  the  Sierra. 

In  the  year  1841,  when  I  was  passing  through  a  miserable 
village  on  the  confines  of  one  of  the  Montanas  of  Central  Peru,  I 
took  up  my  abode  for  some  days  in  the  hut  of  an  Indian,  and 
whilst  there  I  accidentally  saw  eighteen  muskets  which  were 
deposited  in  a  place  of  concealment.  I,  quite  unsuspectingly, 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERUVIAN  INDIANS.  335 

inquired  of  the  Indian,  why  he  thought  it  requisite  to  keep  so 
many  weapons  of  defence  ?  He  replied,  with  a  sinister  frown, 
that  the  time  would  come  when  he  should  find  them  useful.  I 
could  easily  perceive  that  my  accidental  discovery  was  by  no 
means  agreeable  to  him  ;  and  from  the  very  marked  change 
which  I  observed  in  his  manner.  I  deemed  it  prudent  to  withdraw 
from  the  village  and  its  vicinity.  Whilst  my  horse  was  being 
saddled,  I  noticed  my  host  and  some  of  his  confidential  friends 
engaged  in  very  earnest  conversation,  and  I  could  easily  perceive 
that  I  was  the  subject  of  it.  On  my  departure  the  Indian  asked 
me,  with  apparent  friendliness  of  manner,  which  way  I  was  going  ? 
When  I  was  beyond  the  sphere  of  his  observation,  I  deemed  it 
prudent  to  proceed  quite  in  an  opposite  direction  from  the  route 
which  I  told  him  I  intended  to  take. 

The  character  of  the  Peruvian  Indian  is  essentially  gloomy. 
It  was  not  always  so,  if  we  may  give  credit  to  the  animated  pic- 
tures drawn  by  early  travellers  in  Peru  ;  but  three  hundred  years 
of  oppression  and  suffering  have  impressed  their  melancholy  stamp 
on  the  feelings  and  manners  of  the  people.  This  gloominess  is 
strikingly  manifested  in  their  songs,  their  dances,  their  dress,  and 
their  whole  domestic  economy.  The  favorite  musical  instru- 
ments of  the  Indians  are  those  called  the  Pututo  and  the  Jaina. 
The  former  is  a  large  conch,  on  which  they  perform  mournful 
music,  as  the  accompaniment  of  their  funeral  dances.  In  early 
times  this  conch  was  employed  in  the  solemnities  of  royal  inter- 
ments ;  now  its  use  is  exclusively  reserved  for  the  anniversaries 
held  in  commemoration  of  certain  events  connected  with  the  fallen 
Inca  dynasty.  The  Jaina  appears  to  be  of  more  modern  origin  ; 
it  is  a  rude  kind  of  clarionet,  made  from  a  reed.  Its  tone  is 
indescribably  melancholy,  and  it  produces  an  extraordinary 
impression  on  the  natives.  If  a  group  of  Indians  are  rioting  and 
drinking,  or  engaged  in  furious  conflict  with  each  other,  and  the 
sound  of  the  Jaina  is  suddenly  heard,  the  tumult  ceases,  as  if  by 
a  stroke  of  magic.  A  dead  stillness  prevails,  and  all  listen 
devoutly  to  the  magic  tones  of  the  simple  reed  ;  tones  which  fre- 
quently draw  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  apathetic  Indian. 

Their  garments  are  all  of  dark  and  sombre  hues.  Dark  blue 
is  a  favorite  color,  and  appears  to  be  generally  adopted  for  mourn- 


336  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


ing ;  for  whenever  the  Indians  follow  a  corpse  to  the  grave,  they 
always  wear  dark  blue  ponchos.  The  dress  of  the  men  usually 
consists  of  short  trowsers,  of  coarse  brown  cloth,  fastened  round 
the  waist  by  a  girdle,  and  a  woollen  or  cotton  shirt.  They  seldom 
wear  a  jacket,  the  ponchos  of  Alpaca  wool  being  always  the  outer 
garment.  On  their  feet  they  wear  sandals  of  untanned  leather, 
which  merely  cover  the  toes,  and  are  fastened  round  the  ancle. 

The  dress  of  the  women  consists  of  a  loose  under  garment,  with- 
out sleeves,  and  made  of  coarse  blue  woollen  cloth.  It  is  con- 
fined round  the  waist  by  a  broad  girdle,  called  the  Tiuccau.  Over 
the  arms  are  drawn  black  sleeves,  reaching  from  the  wrist  to 
about  the  middle  of  the  upper  arm.  A  sort  of  robe  or  tunic, 
called  the  anacu,  descends  from  the  shoulders  to  the  knees.  It  is 
fastened,  not  in  front,  but  on  one  side.  This  garment  is  made  of 
a  thin  sort  of  woollen  stuff.  It  is  always  black,  being  worn  in 
token  of  mourning  for  the  Incas.  On  the  occasion  of  certain 
festivals,  the  Indian  women  wear  a  particolored  dress,  called  a 
faldillin.  This  garment  frequently  exhibits  the  most  glaring 
contrasts  of  color,  one  half  being  bright  red,  and  the  other  yellow, 
in  addition  to  which  it  is  sometimes  adorned  with  flowers  of 
brilliant  hues,  and  tasteless,  gold  embroidery.  A  mantilla, 
consisting  of  a  narrow  piece  of  woollen  cloth,  passed  over  the 
shoulders,  and  fastened  under  the  chin,  either  with  a  long  silver 
pin,  or  a  cactus-thorn,  completes  the  costume.  In  this  mantilla, 
or  in  a  poncho,  mothers  are  accustomed  to  wrap  their  infants,  and 
fastening  them  to  their  backs,  they  carry  them  about  in  this  man 
ner  for  a  whole  day,  whilst  engaged  in  their  work. 

In  their  domestic  relations,  the  Indians  are  unsocial  and  gloomy. 
Husband,  wife,  and  children  live  together  with  but  little  appear- 
ance of  affection.  The  children  seem  to  approach  their  parents 
timidly,  and  whole  days  sometimes  elapse  without  the  interchange 
of  a  word  of  kindness  between  them.  When  the  Indian  is  not 
engaged  in  out-door  work,  he  sits  gloomily  in  his  hut,  chewing 
coca,  and  brooding  silently  over  his  own  thoughts.  To  his 
friend  he  is  more  communicative  than  to  his  wife.  With  the 
former,  he  will  often  discourse,  apparently  on  some  secret  topic, 
for  the  space  of  half  a  night ;  nevertheless,  he  cannot  be  accused 
of  treating  his  wife  with  any  degree  of  cruelty,  or  of  regarding 


DOMESTIC  RELATIONS  OF  THE  INDIANS.  331* 

her  merely  in  the  light  of  his  slave,  as  is  customary  among  manj 
uncivilized  races  of  people. 

Besides  the  official  authorities,  to  which  the  Government  exactt 
obedience,  the  Peruvian  Indian  acknowledges  other  authority, 
whose  functions  and  power  are  similar  to  those  waich  existed 
under  the  Inca  dynasty.  In  like  manner,  though  they  have 
embraced  the  Christian  faith,  yet  they  obstinately  adhere  to 
certain  religious  ceremonies,  which  have  been  transmitted  ») 
them  by  their  idolatrous  progenitors.  Thus  their  religion  is  a 
singular  combination  of  Christian  principles  and  heathenish  forms. 
Hitherto  the  most  patient  and  intelligent  of  their  religious  in- 
structors have  failed  to  outroot  this  attachment  to  old  forms.  The 
Christian  religion  has  been  spread  among  the  Indians  by  force ; 
and  for  centuries  past,  they  have  regarded  the  priests  only  in  the 
light  of  tyrants,  who  make  religion  a  cloak  for  the  most  scandalous 
pecuniary  extortions,  and  whose  conduct  is  in  direct  opposition  to 
the  doctrines  they  profess.  If  they  render  to  them  unconditional 
obedience,  accompanied  by  a  sort  of  timid  reverence,  it  is  to  be 
attributed  less  to  the  operation  of  the  Christian  principle,  than  to 
a  lingering  attachment  to  the  theocratic  government  of  the  Incas, 
which  has  impressed  the  Peruvians  with  a  sacred  awe  of  religion. 

The  superstition  with  which  the  Indians  are  so  deeply  imbued 
is  adverse  to  the  inculcation  of  pure  religious  faith  ;  it  is  the  more 
difficult  to  be  eradicated,  inasmuch  as  it  has  its  origin  in  early 
tradition,  and  has  in  later  times  been  singularly  blended  with  the 
Catholic  form  of  worship.  Of  this  superstition  I  may  here  adduce 
some  examples.  As  soon  as  a  dying  person  draws  his  last  breath, 
the  relatives,  or  persons  in  attendance,  put  coca  leaves  into  the 
mouth  of  the  corpse,  and  light  a  wax  candle.  They  then  collect 
together  the  household  goods  and  clothes  of  the  deceased  and 
wash  them  in  the  nearest  river.  They  put  on  the  dead  clothes, 
which  are  made  after  the  pattern  of  a  monk's  habit,  and  they 
hang  round  the  neck  of  the  corpse  a  little  bag,  containing  seeds 
of  coca,  maize,  barley,  quinua,  &c.,  for  his  plantations  in  the 
next  world.  In  the  evening  ashes  are  strewed  on  the  floor 
of  the  room,  and  the  door  is  securely  fastened.  Next  morning 
the  ashes  are  carefully  examined  to  ascertain  whether  they  show 
any  impression  of  footsteps ;  and  imagination  readily  traces 
16 


TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


marks,  which  are  alleged  to  have  been  produced  by  the  feet  of 
birds,  dogs,  cats,  oxen,  or  llamas.  The  destiny  of  the  dead  per- 
son is  construed  by  the  foot-marks  which  are  supposed  to  be 
discernible.  The  worst  marks  are  those  of  hens'  claws,  which 
are  believed  to  denote  that  the  soul  of  the  deceased  is  doomed  to 
irrevocable  perdition.  The  marks  of  the  hoofs  of  llamas  are 
considered  favorable,  and  are  believed  to  indicate  that  the  soul, 
after  a  short  purgatory,  will  be  transferred  to  the  joys  of  para- 
dise. The  funeral  is  conducted  according  to  Christian  forms, 
and  under  the  superintendence  of  a  priest.  But  as  soon  as  the 
priest  takes  his  departure  food  is  put  into  the  grave  along  with 
the  dead  body,  which  is  interred  without  a  coffin.  I  have  some- 
times seen  one  of  the  nearest  relatives  leap  into  the  grave  and 
strike  the  body  with  his  foot,  but  the  meaning  of  this  strange 
proceeding  I  never  could  clearly  understand.  Some  curious 
ceremonies  are  observed  on  All  Souls'  Day.  In  every  house  in 
which  a  member  of  the  family  has  died  in  the  course  of  the  year, 
a  table  is  laid  out  with  brandy,  coca,  tobacco,  together  with  some 
of  the  favorite  dishes  of  the  deceased  person,  and  the  chamber 
is  kept  closed  the  whole  day.  The  family  firmly  believe  that  the 
spirit  of  their  departed  relative  on  that  day  revisits  his  earthly 
abode,  and  partakes  of  the  repast  that  is  spread  out  on  the  table. 
A  widow  usually  wears  mourning  for  the  space  of  twelve  months. 
In  some  provinces,  on  the  anniversary  of  her  husband's  death, 
the  widow  puts  on  a  bridal  dress,  and  over  it  her  ordinary  gar- 
ments. All  her  relatives  visit  her  in  her  dwelling,  where,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  doleful  music,  she  takes  the  lead  in  a  funeral 
dance.  As  the  hour  approaches  at  which  the  husband  died  in 
the  previous  year,  the  dancing  and  the  music  become  more  and 
more  mournful ;  but  whenever  the  hour  is  past  one  of  the  female 
friends  approaches  the  widow  and  removes  her  black  mantilla. 
The  other  females  then  strip  off  the  rest  of  her  mourning  gar- 
ments, and  adorn  her  head  with  flowers.  At  length  she  appears 
in  a  complete  bridal  dress.  The  musicians  strike  up  a  lively 
strain,  to  which  the  whole  party  dance,  and  the  evening  is  passed 
in  drinking  and  merry-making. 

Among  the  Peruvian  Indians  there  are  marked  varieties  of 
tbrm  and  complexion.     These   differences   are   most   distinctly 


LONGEVITY  OF  THE  INDIANS.  339 

observable  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  coast  and  those  of  the 
mountain  and  forest  regions.  In  general,  the  Peruvian  Indian  is 
of  middle  height,  rather  slender,  and  not  very  robust.  The 
coast  Indians  are  more  plump  than  the  inhabitants  of  other  dis- 
tricts, because  they  lead  a  less  laborious  life,  and  are  less  ex- 
posed to  privations.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  trace  any  particular 
national  physiognomy  among  the  Indians.  In  each  province  a 
distinct  character  is  observable  in  the  features  of  the  inhabitants. 
The  varieties  of  feature  are  less  distinctly  marked  than  the  dif- 
ferences of  complexion.  The  peculiar  tints  of  the  skin  are 
decidedly  denned,  and  indicate  respectively  the  inhabitants  of  the 
three  principal  regions.  The  colder  the  climate,  the  fairer  is  the 
skin.  For  example,  the  color  of  the  Puna  Indian  is  a  dark  red- 
brown  ;  that  of  the  native  of  the  Sierra  is  considerably  lighter ; 
it  is  a  rusty  red,  but  still  darker  than  that  of  the  coast  Indians ; 
and  the  natives  of  the  forests  are  yellow,  nearly  approaching 
to  maize  color.  These  differences  are  singularly  striking,  when 
one  has  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  inhabitants  of  the  different 
regions  in  juxtaposition.  It  is  curious  that  the  Cholos  of  the 
Puna,  when  they  settle  in  the  forests,  become  only  a  very  little 
clearer ;  arid  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  yellow  Indians  of  the 
Montana,  after  being  several  years  in  the  Puna,  still  retain  their 
characteristic  tint.  The  women  are,  on  the  whole,  extremely 
ugly,  with  round,  inexpressive  faces.  Their  hands  and  feet  are 
very  small. 

The  Indians  are,  on  the  average,  remarkable  for  longevity, 
though  they  frequently  shorten  their  lives  by  the  intemperate 
use  of  strong  drinks.  Instances  are  not  rare  of  Indians  living 
to  be  120  or  130  years  of  age,  and  retaining  full  possession  of  their 
bodily  and  mental  powers.  Stevenson  mentions  that  on  examin- 
ing the  church  registers  of  Barranca,  he  found  that  within  an 
interval  of  seven  years,  eleven  Indians  had  been  interred,  whose 
united  ages  amounted  to  1207,  being  an  average  of  109  years 
to  each.  In  the  year  1839  there  was  living  in  the  valley  of 
Jauja  an  Indian  who,  according  to  the  baptismal  register  shown 
to  me  by  the  priest,  was  born  in  the  year  1697.  He  himself 
declared  that  he  had  not  for  the  space  of  ninety  years  tasted  a 
drop  of  water,  having  drunk  nothing  but  chicha.  Since  he  was 


340  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


eleven  years  of  age,  he  alleged  that  he  had  masticated  coca,  at 
least  three  times  every  day,  and  that  he  had  eaten  animal  food 
only  on  Sundays ;  on  all  the  other  days  of  the  week  he  had  lived 
on  maize,  quinua,  and  barley.  The  Indians  retain  their  teeth 
and  hair  in  extreme  old  age ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  their  hair 
never  becomes  white,  and  very  seldom  even  grey.  •  Those  indi- 
viduals whose  advanced  ages  have  been  mentioned  above,  had 
all  fine  black  hair. 

Since  the  Spanish  conquest,  the  population  of  Peru  has  dimi- 
nished in  an  almost  incredible  degree.  When  we  read  the 
accounts  given  by  the  old  historiographers  of  the  vast  armies 
which  the  Incas  had  at  their  command ;  when  we  behold  the 
ruins  of  the  gigantic  buildings,  and  of  the  numerous  towns  and 
villages  scattered  over  Peru,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  the 
land  could  have  been  so  depopulated  in  the  lapse  of  three  centu- 
ries. At  the  time  of  the  conquest  it  was  easy,  in  a  short  space 
of  time,  to  raise  an  army  of  300,000  men,  and,  moreover,  to 
form  an  important  reserved  force ;  whilst  now,  the  Government, 
even  with  the  utmost  efforts,  can  scarcely  assemble  10,000  or 
12,000  men.  According  to  the  census  drawn  up  in  1836,  Peru 
did  not  contain  more  than  1,400,000  men,  being  not  quite  so 
many  as  were  contained  at  an  earlier  period  in  the  department 
of  Cuzco  alone.  Unfortunately  there  is  no  possibility  of  obtain- 
ing anything  approaching  to  accurate  estimates  of  the  population 
of  early  periods  ;  and  even  if  such  documents  existed,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  deduce  from  them  a  comparison  between  Peru  as 
it  now  is,  and  Peru  at  the  period  when  Bolivia,  a  part  of  Buenos 
Ayres,  and  Columbia,  belonged  to  the  mighty  empire.  I  will 
here  quote  only  one  example  of  the  immense  diminution  of  the 
population.  Father  Melendez  mentions  that  shortly  after  the 
conquest,  the  parish  of  Ancallama,  in  the  province  of  Chancay, 
contained  30,000  Indians  fit  for  service  (that  is  to  say,  between 
the  ages  of  eighteen  and  fifty)  ;  now,  the  same  parish  contains 
at  most  140  individuals,  of  whom  one-third  are  Mestizos.  The 
whole  coast  of  Peru,  now  almost  totally  depopulated,  was  once 
so  thickly  inhabited,  that  to  subdue  King  Chimu,  in  North  Peru 
alone,  an  army  of  80,000  men  was  requisite.  The  causes  of 
the  diminished  Indian  population  of  Peru  have  been  so  frequently 


INDIAN  DIALECTS.  341 


and  fully  detailed  by  previous  writers,  that  I  need  not  here  do  more 
than  briefly  advert  to  them.  They  are  found  in  the  extensive  and 
reckless  massacres  committed  by  the  Spaniards  during  the 
struggle  of  the  conquest ;  in  the  suicides  and  voluntary  deaths 
resorted  to  by  the  natives  to  escape  from  the  power  of  their  op- 
pressors ;  in  the  mita,  the  small-pox,  the  scarlet  fever,  and  the 
introduction  of  brandy.  The  mita  alone,  especially  the  labor  in 
the  mines,  has  swept  away  four  times  as  many  Indians  as  all 
the  other  causes  combined.  Since  the  abolition  of  the  mita,  the 
Indian  population  has  been  on  the  increase,  though  there  has  not 
yet  been  time  for  any  marked  result  to  become  manifest ;  the 
more  especially,  considering  the  numbers  of  lives  sacrificed  during 
the  frequent  civil  wars.  Nevertheless,  it  is  easy  to  foresee  that 
a  decided  augmentation  of  the  Indian  inhabitants  of  the  western 
parts  of  South  America  will,  ere  long,  be  apparent. 

Among  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  Peru  a  variety  of  lan- 
guages are  in  use.  In  the  southern  parts  of  the  country,  par- 
ticularly about  Cuzco,  the  Quichua  is  spoken.  It  was  the  dialect 
of  the  court,  and  that  which  was  most  generally  diffused,  and 
the  Spaniards  therefore  called  it  la  lengua  general.  In  the  high- 
lands of  Central  Peru,  the  Chinchaysuyo  language  prevailed. 
The  Indians  of  the  coast,  who  belonged  to  the  race  of  the  Chun- 
chos,  spoke  the  Yunga.  The  Kauqui  was  the  language  of  that 
part  of  Central  Peru  which  corresponds  with  the  present  province 
of  Yauyos.  The  inhabitants  of  the  north-eastern  parts  of  Peru, 
as  far  as  the  Huallaga,  spoke  the  Lama  language,*  and  the  na- 
tives of  the  highland  regions  of  Quito  spoke  the  Quitena."\  These 
different  languages,  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  Lama,  pro- 
ceed all  from  one  source,  differ  so  considerably,  that  the  in- 
habitants of  the  several  districts  were  reciprocally  incapable  of 

*  Adelung,  in  his  "  Review  of  all  Languages,"  considers  the  Calchaqui 
(still  spoken  in  Tucuman)  to  be  a  dialect  of  the  Quichua.  It  is,  however, 
a  dialect  of  the  Aymara.  Adelung  makes  another  mistake  when  he  ob- 
serves, that  the  Lama  language  is  spoken  in  the  neighborhood  of  Truxillo. 

f  Of  the  Quichua,  Quitena,  and  Lama  languages  several  grammars  and 
dictionaries  exist.  Of  the  Kauqui  only  single  words  have  been  preserved. 
There  is  a  very  imperfect  dictionary  of  the  Chinchaysuyo  by  Figueredo. 
Of  the  Yunga  there  is  a  grammar  with  a  Confesionario  and  Prayers  by 
Fernando  de  Carrera — a  very  scarce  work. 


342  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


understanding  each  other,  and  the  Incas  found  it  necessary  to 
introduce  the  Quichua  among  all  the  nations  they  subdued.  The 
other  dialects  were  thereby  much  corrupted,  and  at  the  time  of 
the  Spanish  invasion,  they  were  seldom  correctly  spoken.  This 
corruption  was  naturally  increased  more  and  more  after  the 
arrival  of  the  Spaniards,  by  the  introduction  of  a  new  language. 
Only  for  a  few  of  the  new  articles  brought  by  the  Spaniards  to 
Peru  did  the  Indians  form  new  names,  taking  the  roots  of  the 
words  from  their  own  language  :  for  most  things  they  adopted 
the  Spanish  names.  By  this  means,  but  still  more  by  the  future 
intercourse  of  the  people  with  the  invaders,  the  purity  of  the 
natural  language  rapidly  disappeared  in  proportion  to  the  influ- 
ence which  the  Spaniards  obtained  by  their  increase  in  numbers 
and  moral  superiority.  At  present  the  Quichua  is  a  compound 
of  all  the  dialects  and  the  Spanish  ;  it  is  spoken  in  the  greatest 
purity  in  the  southern  provinces,  though  even  there  it  is  much 
intermixed  with  Aymara  words.  In  Central  Peru  the  Chinchay- 
suyo  prevails,  and  on  the  coast  the  Spanish  and  the  Yunga. 
The  present  Indians  and  people  of  mixed  blood,  who  of  necessity 
must  speak  the  ever-changing  Quichua,  and  also  the  Spanish, 
speak  both  in  so  corrupt  a  manner,  that  it  is  frequently  almost 
impossible  to  understand  them. 

The  family  of  the  Incas  had  a  secret  language  of  their  own, 
which  was  not  learned  by  subjects.  This  language  is  now  almost 
totally  lost,  not  more  than  two  dozen  words  of  it  being  preserved. 
In  early  times,  the  Quichua  language  was  much  cultivated.  It 
was  used  officially  in  public  speaking,  and  professors  were  sent 
by  the  Inca  family  into  the  provinces  to  teach  it  correctly.  For 
poetry,  the  Quichua  language  was  not  very  well  adapted,  owing 
to  the  difficult  conjugation  of  the  verbs,  and  the  awkward  blend- 
ing of  pronouns  with  substantives.  Nevertheless,  the  poetic  art 
was  zealously  cultivated  under  the  Incas.  They  paid  certain 
poets  (called  the  Haravicus),  for  writing  festival  dramas  in  verse, 
and  also  for  composing  love-songs  and  heroic  poems.  Few  of 
these  heroic  poems  have  been  preserved,  a  circumstance  the  more 
to  be  regretted,  as  many  of  them  would  doubtless  have  been  import- 
ant historical  documents ;  but  for  that  very  reason,  the  Spaniards 
spared  no  pains  to  obliterate  every  trace  of  them.  Some  of  the 


QUICHUA  POETRY.  343 


love-songs  have,  however,  been  preserved.  InQuichua  poetry, 
the  lines  are  short,  and  seldom  thoroughly  rhythmical.  Rhymes 
were  only  exceptional,  and  were  never  sought  for.  The  poetry 
was,  therefore,  merely  a  sort  of  broken  prose. 

A  specimen  of  one  of  the  best  of  the  Quichua  love-songs  is 
given  by  Garcilaso  de  Ha  Vega,  in  his  "  Commentaries  and 
Poems."  It  is  copied  from  papers  left  by  a  monk,  named  Bias 
Valera ;  and  some  lines  of  it  are  here  subjoined.  The  subject 
is  an  old  Peruvian  tradition  : — A  maiden  of  royal  blood  (nusta) 
is  appointed  by  the  Creator  of  the  world  (Pacchacamac)  in 
heaven,  to  pour  water  and  snow  on  the  earth  out  of  a  pitcher ; 
her  brother  breaks  the  pitcher,  whereupon  thunder  and  lightning 
arise. 

Cumac  nusta  Beautiful  Princess, 

Turallayquim  Thy  Pitcher 

Puynuyquita  Thy  brother  hath  broken 

Paquicayan  Here  in  Pieces ; 

Hina  mantara  For  that  blow 

Cunununun ,  It  thunders  ;  and  lightning 

Yllapantac  Flashes  all  around. 

There  were,  however,  instances  of  versification  which  may  pro- 
perly be  called  poetry.  Of  this  the  Yaravies,  or  elegies,  afford  some 
fair  examples.  These  poems  have  for  their  subjects  unfortunate 
love,  or  sorrow  for  the  dead.  They  were  recited  or  sung  by  one 
or  more  voices,  with  an  accompaniment  of  melancholy  music, 
and  made  a  great  impression  on  the  hearers.  A  foreigner,  who 
for  the  first  time  hears  one  of  these  Yaravies  sung,  even  though 
he  may  not  understand  the  Quichua  words,  is  nevertheless  deep- 
ly moved  by  the  melody.  The  strain  is  sad  and  sweet.  No 
other  music  is  at  once  so  dismal  and  so  tender.  What  the  donina 
is  as  an  instrument,  the  yaravie  is  in  singing ;  both  convey  the 
expression  of  a  deeply  troubled  heart.  The  yaravie  has  been 
imitated  by  the  Spaniards  in  their  own  language,  and  some  of  the 
imitations  are  very  beautiful ;  but  they  have  not  been  able  to 
reach  the  deep  melancholy  of  the  Quichua  elegy.  The  modern 
poetry  of  the  Indians  is  inferior  to  the  old  ;  the  words  are  a  mix- 
ture of  Quichua  and  Spanish,  and  are  scarcely  intelligible.  The 


344  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Spanish  words  have  often  Quichua  terminations  affixed  to  them  ; 
on  the  other  hand,  sometimes  the  Quichua  words  are  inflected 
after  the  Spanish  manner,  making  altogether  a  barbarous  com- 
pound. 

The  ancient  Peruvians  had  no  manuscript  characters  for  single 
sounds ;  but  they  h.ad  a  method  by  which  they  composed  words 
and  incorporated  ideas.  This  method  consisted  in  the  dexterous 
intertwining  of  knots  on  strings,  so  as  to  render  them  auxiliaries  to 
the  memory.  The  instrument  consisting  of  these  strings  and 
knots  was  called  the  QUIPU.  It  was  composed  of  one  thick  head 
or  top  string,  to  which,  at  certain  distances,  thinner  ones  were 
fastened.  The  top  string  was  much  thicker  than  these  pendent 
strings,  and  consisted  of  two  doubly  twisted  threads,  over  which 
two  single  threads  were  wound.  The  branches,  if  I  may  apply 
the  term  to  these  pendent  strings,  were  fastened  to  the  top  ones 
by  a  simple  loop  ;  the  knots  were  made  in  the  pendent  strings, 
and  were  either  single  or  manifold.  The  lengths  of  the  strings 
used  in  making  the  quipu  were  various.  The  transverse  or  top 
string  often  measures  several  yards,  and  sometimes  only  a  foot 
long ;  the  branches  are  seldom  more  than  two  feet  long,  and  in 
general  they  are  much  shorter. 

The  strings  were  often  of  different  colors  ;  each  having  its  own 
particular  signification.  The  color  for  soldiers  was  red  ;  for  gold, 
yellow  ;  for  silver,  white ;  for  corn,  green,  &c.  This  writing 
by  knots  was  especially  employed  for  numerical  and  statistical 
tables  ;  each  single  knot  representing  ten ;  each  double  knot 
stood  for  one  hundred  ;  each  triple  knot  for  one  thousand,  &c.  ; 
two  single  knots  standing  together  made  twenty  ;  and  two  double 
knots,  two  hundred. 

This  method  of  calculation  is  still  practised  by  the  shepherds 
of  the  Puna.  They  explained  it  to  me,  and  I  could,  with  very 
little  trouble,  construe  their  quipus.  On  the  first  branch  or  string 
they  usually  placed  the  numbers  of  the  bulls  ;  on  the  second, 
that  of  the  cows ;  the  latter  being  classed  into  those  which  were 
milked,  and  those  which  were  not  milked ;  on  the  next  string 
were  numbered  the  calves,  according  to  their  ages  and  sizes. 
Then  came  the  sheep,  in  several  subdivisions.  Next  followed 
the  number  of  foxes  killed,  the  quantity  of  salt  consumed,  and, 


THE  QUIPU.  345 


finally,  the  cattle  that  had  been  slaughtered.  Other  quipus 
showed  the  produce  of  the  herds  in  milk,  cheese,  wool,  &c.  Each 
list  was  distinguished  by  a  particular  color,  or  by  some  peculiarity 
in  the  twisting  of  the  string. 

In  this  manner  the  ancient  Peruvians  kept  the  accounts  of 
their  army.  On  one  string  were  numbered  the  soldiers  armed 
with  slings  ;  on  another,  the  spearmen  ;  on  a  third,  those  who 
carried  clubs,  &c.  In  the  same  manner  the  military  reports 
were  prepared.  In  every  town  some  expert  men  were  appointed 
to  tie  the  knots  of  the  quipu,  and  to  explain  them.  These  men 
were  called  quipucamayocuna  (literally,  officers  of  the  knots). 
Imperfect  as  was  this  method,  yet  in  the  flourishing  period  of  the 
Inca  government  the  appointed  officers  had  acquired  great  dex- 
terity in  unriddling  the  meaning  of  the  knots.  It,  however, 
seldom  happened  that  they  had  to  read  a  quipu  without  some 
verbal  commentary.  Something  was  always  required  to  be 
added  if  the  quipu  came  from  a  distant  province,  to  explain 
whether  it  related  to  the  numbering  of  the  population,  to  tributes, 
or  to  war,  &c.  Through  long-continued  practice,  the  officers 
who  had  charge  of  the  quipus  became  so  perfect  in  their  duties, 
that  they  could  with  facility  communicate  the  laws  and  ordi- 
nances, and  all  the  most  important  events  of  the  kingdom,  by 
their  knots. 

All  attempts  made  in  modern  times  to  decipher  Peruvian 
quipus  have  been  unsatisfactory  in  their  results.  The  principal 
obstacle  to  deciphering  those  found  in  graves,  consists  in  the  want 
of  the  oral  communication  requisite  for  pointing  out  the  subjects 
to  which  they  refer.  Such  communication  was  necessary,  even 
in  former  times,  to  the  most  learned  quipucamayocuna.  Most  of 
the  quipus  here  alluded  to  seem  to  be  accounts  of  the  population 
of  particular  towns  or  provinces,  tax-lists,  and  information  relat- 
ing to  the  property  of  the  deceased.  Some  Indians  in  the 
southern  provinces  of  Peru  are  understood  to  possess  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  some  of  the  ancient  quipus,  from  information 
transmitted  to  them  from  their  ancestors.  But  they  keep  that 
knowledge  profoundly  secret,  particularly  from  the  whites.  The 
ancient  Peruvians  also  used  a  certain  kind  of  hieroglyphics, 
which  they  engraved  in  stone,  and  preserved  in  their  temples. 
16* 


346  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


Notices  of  these  hieroglyphics  are  given  by  some  of  the  early 
writers.  There  appears  to  be  a  great  similarity  between  these 
Peruvian  hieroglyphics  and  those  found  in  Mexico  and  Brazil. 

I  have  already  mentioned  one  of  the  largest  and  most  wonder- 
ful works  of  Peruvian  antiquity,  namely,  the  great  military  road 
which  passes  through  the  whole  empire  leading  from  Cuzco  to 
Quitu,  and  which  has  many  highly  important  lateral  branches. 
The  magnificent  water-conduits,  by  which  barren  sand  wastes 
and  sterile  hills  were  converted  into  fruitful  plantations,  are 
monuments  of  equivalent  greatness.  Traces  of  these  water- 
conduits  are  to  be  seen  throughout  the  whole  of  Peru,  and  even 
where  the  canals  themselves  no  longer  exist,  the  divisional 
boundaries  of  the  fields  they  watered  are  still  discernible.  In 
many  districts  where  the  valleys  of  the  Sierra  run  into  the  Puna 
— (I  allude  here  only  to  the  declivities  above  Tarmatambo,  on 
the  road  towards  Jauja) — there  may  be  seen  many  square 
fields  of  uniform  size,  each  of  which  is  surrounded  by  a  low 
stone  wall ;  these  fields  are  at  present  overgrown  with  Puna 
grass,  and  are  not  fit  for  cultivation.  They  are  what  were  called 
Tapu  lands,  which  wei^  distributed  to  every  subject  of  the  Inca 
empire,  so  that  each  family  enjoyed  the  produce  arising  from  the 
cultivation  of  a  certain  portion  of  ground.  These  Tapu  lands 
were  watered  by  skilfully  constructed  aqueducts,  whereby  they 
were  rendered  suitable  for  agriculture.  The  Spaniards  having 
destroyed  the  conduits,  the  reservoirs  dried  up,  and  the  soil 
became  barren.  Many  of  these  conduits  were  subterraneous, 
and  it  is  now  no  longer  possible  to  find  them  ;  in  some  parts  they 
were  constructed  with  pipes  of  gold,  which  the  Spaniards  eagerly 
seized  as  valuable  booty. 

There  still  exist  vast  remains  of  well-constructed  colossal 
buildings,  as  palaces,  fortresses,  and  temples.  The  walls  of 
these  edifices  were  built  of  square  stones,  so  finely  cut,  and 
joined  so  closely  together,  that  between  any  two  there  is  not 
space  sufficient  to  insert  the  edge  of  the  thinnest  paper.  In  the 
royal  palace  of  Cuzco,  and  in  the  Temple  of  the  Sun,  a  fusion 
of  gold  or  silver  was  used  for  cement  between  the  stones.  This 
was,  however,  only  employed  as  a  luxury ;  for  in  other  great 
edifices,  for  example,  in  the  baths  of  Huamalies  in  the  province 


FORTRESSES  AND  SUBTERRANEOUS  PASSAGES.          347 

of  Jauja,  stones  are  kept  together  by  their  own  weight  and  the 
precision  of  the  workmanship.  These  stones  are  of  very  con- 
siderable magnitude  ;  some  being  from  twelve  to  sixteen  feet 
long,  from  eight  to  ten  feet  high,  and  equally  broad.  They  are 
not  all  square  ;  some  are  polygonal,  and  some  spherical,  but  they 
were  all  joined  one  to  another  with  the  same  exactness  :  of  this 
a  remarkable  example  is  presented  in  the  highly  interesting 
ruins  of  the  palace  of  Limatambo.  A  question  which  naturally 
suggests  itself  is, — how  did  the  ancient  Peruvians,  without  iron 
tools,  hew  these  vast  stones,  and  afterwards  work  the  different  frag- 
ments so  skilfully  ?  The  first  point  is  to  me  quite  inexplicable  ; 
the  second  may  possibly  be  accounted  for  by  friction  ;  the  softest 
of  two  stones  which  was  to  be  brought  into  a  particular  shape 
being  rubbed  by  a  harder,  and  afterwards  polished  by  pyritous 
plants.  The  removal  of  the  block  from  the  quarry  where  it  was 
excavated  to  the  place  of  its  destination,  and  the  raising  of  frag- 
ments of  stone  to  considerable  heights,  could  only  have  been 
effected  by  the  co-operation  of  thousands  of  men,  for  no  kind  of 
elevating  machinery  or  lever  was  then  known. 

The  fortresses  give  a  high  idea  of  the  progress  made  by  the 
ancient  Peruvians  in  architectural  art.  These  structures  were 
surrounded  by  ramparts  and  trenches.  The  larger  ones  were 
protected  by  the  solidity  of  the  walls,  and  the  smaller  ones  by 
difficulty  of  access.  The  approaches  to  them  were  chiefly  sub- 
terraneous ;  and  thereby,  they  were  enabled  to  maintain  secret 
communication  with  the  palaces  and  temples  in  their  neighbor- 
hood. The  subterraneous  communications  were  carefully  con- 
structed ;  they  were  of  the  height  of  a  man,  and  in  general  from 
three  to  four  feet  broad.  In  some  parts  they  contract  suddenly 
in  width,  and  the  walls  on  each  side  are  built  with  sharp  pointed 
stones,  so  that  there  is  no  getting  between  them,  except  by  a 
lateral  movement.  In  other  parts  they  occasionally  become  so 
low,  that  it  is  impossible  to  advance,  except  by  creeping  on  all 
fours.  Every  circumstance  had  been  made  a  subject  of  strict 
calculation  ;  it  had  been  well  considered  how  treasures  might  be 
removed  from  the  palaces  and  temples  to  the  fortresses,  and 
placed  securely  beyond  the  reach  of  an  enemy,  for  in  the  rear  of 
every  narrow  pass  there  were  ample  spaces  for  soldiers,  who 


348  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


might  dispute  the  advance  of  a  whole  army.  Besides  the 
remains  of  the  fortress  of  Cuzco,  which  are  gradually  disappear, 
ing  every  year,  the  most  important  are  those  of  Calcahilares  and 
Huillcahuaman.  Less  interesting,  though  still  very  curious, 
are  the  ruins  of  Chimu-canchu  in  Manische,  near  Truxillo, 
which  are  not  of  stone  but  of  brick.  The  architecture  of  the 
small  fortress  of  Huichay,  two  leagues  from  Tarma,  which 
defended  the  entrance  to  that  valley,  is  very  remarkable.  The 
front  is  built  of  small  but  firmly  united  stones,  and  covers  a 
large  cavity,  in  which  there  are  numerous  divisions,  intended 
for  the  preservation  of  warlike  stores,  and  for  quartering  soldiers. 
On  the  steep  declivity  of  the  hill  there  had  been  a  deep  trench, 
between  which  there  was  a  wall  fourteen  feet  higher,  flanked  by 
three  bastions.  Around  this  fortress  nitre  is  found  in  great 
abundance.  It  is  now  collected  by  the  Huancas  (the  inhabitants 
of  the  valley  of  Jauja),  for  making  gunpowder.  The  diggings 
for  nitre  have  almost  obliterated  the  entrance  to  the  cavity,  and 
the  fortress  is  already  so  much  injured  that  possibly  in  another 
century  scarcely  a  trace  of  the  edifice  will  remain.  Notwith- 
standing a  search  of  several  days,  I  did  not  succeed  in  discover- 
ing the  mouth  of  the  cavity,  though  an  old  Indian,  who,  years 
ago,  had  often  visited  it,  pointed  out  to  me  what  he  supposed  to 
be  its  precise  situation.  The  walls  of  perpendicular  rock  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Huichay  are  often  60  to  80  feet  high,  and  the 
clefts  or  fissures  in  them  are  filled  up  with  small  stones.  It 
would  be  incomprehensible  how  the  Indians  ascended  to  perform 
this  labor,  were  it  not  perceived  that  they  have  hollowed  passages 
in  the  mountain.  It  would  appear  they  must  have  had  dwell- 
ings, or  stores  for  provisions,  on  the  higher  part  of  the  hill,  for 
small  windows  are  often  perceptible  in  walls  of  masonry. 

The  old  Indian  villages  of  the  Sierra  are  for  the  most  part 
situated  on  heights,  or  sharp  ridges,  which  are  now  completely 
barren,  as  they  no  longer  receive  the  artificial  watering  with 
which  they  were  formerly  supplied.  All  lie  open  to  the  east,  so 
that  the  inhabitants  could  behold  their  Deity  the  moment  he  ap- 
peared on  the  horizon.  All  large  towns  had  a  square  in  their 
centre,  where  the  religious  dances  were  performed.  From  the 
square  a  certain  number  of  regular  roads  or  streets  always  ran 


ANCIENT  PERUVIAN  DWELLINGS.  349 

in  the  direction  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  firmament.  There 
are  great  varieties  in  the  construction  of  the  houses.  Small 
insignificant  huts  often  stand  close  to  a  palace  having  twenty  or 
twenty-five  windows  in  one  front.  Private  dwellings  in  the 
mountainous  parts  are  built  of  unhewn  stone,  cemented  with  a 
very  strong  calcareous  mortar.  On  the  coast  the  walls  are  of 
brick.  In  the  departments  of  Junin  and  Ayacucho,  I  met  with 
the  ruins  of  great  villages,  consisting  of  dwellings  of  a  peculiar 
construction,  in  the  form  of  a  tower.  Each  house  is  quadrangu- 
lar, with  a  diameter  of  about  six  feet,  and  seventeen  or  eighteen 
feet  high.  The  walls  are  from  one  to  one  and  a  half  feet  thick. 
The  doors,  which  open  to  the  east  or  south,  are  only  a  foot  and  a 
half  high,  and  two  feet  wide.  After  creeping  in  (which  is  a  work 
of  some  difficulty)  the  explorer  finds  himself  in  an  apartment 
about  five  and  a  half  feet  in  height,  and  of  equal  breadth,  with- 
out any  windows.  In  the  walls  there  are  closets  or  cupboards, 
which  served  to  contain  domestic  utensils,  food,  &c.  Earthen 
pots  with  maize,  coca,  and  other  things,  are  still  often  found  in 
these  closets.  The  ceiling  of  the  room  is  overlaid  with  flat  plates 
of  stone,  and  in  the  centre  an  aperture,  two  feet  wide,  is  left, 
forming  a  communication  with  the  second  floor,  which  is  precisely 
like  the  first,  but  has  two  small  windows.  The  roof  of  thia  apart- 
ment has  also  an  aperture,  affording  access  to  the  third  floor,  the 
ceiling  of  which  forms  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  consists  of  rather 
thick  plates  of  stone.  The  upper  Toom  is  usually  less  lofty  than 
the  two  rooms  below  it,  and  seems  to  have  been  used  as  a  pro- 
vision store-room.  I  found  in  one  of  these  upper  rooms  the 
mummy  of  a  child  very  well  embalmed.  The  family  appear  to 
have  lived  chiefly  on  the  ground-floors.  The  place  for  cooking 
is  often  plainly  perceptible.  The  second  floor  was  probably  the 
sleeping  apartment.  In  the  course  of  my  travels,  when  over- 
taken by  storms,  I  often  retreated  for  shelter  into  one  of  these 
ruined  dwellings. 

The  ancient  Peruvians  frequently  buried  their  dead  in  their 
own  houses,  and  then  removed  from  them.  This  custom  appears 
to  have  been  very  general  about  the  time  of  the  Spanish  conquest, 
when  a  great  number  of  Indians  committed  suicide  in  despair. 
Household  utensils  were  placed  in  the  graves,  when  the  dead 


350  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


were  buried  in  the  houses,  as  well  as  when  they  were  interred 
in  other  places.  In  many  houses  in  which  I  made  diggings  I 
regularly  found  the  following  arrangement.  Under  a  stratum  of 
earth  two  feet  deep  lay  the  body,  in  a  state  of  good  preservation, 
and  generally,  but  not  always,  in  a  sitting  posture.  On  clearing 
away  another  stratum  of  earth  equally  deep  there  is  found  a 
variety  of  household  vessels  for  cooking,  together  with  water- 
pots  of  clay,  gourds,  hunting  and  fishing  implements,  &c.  There 
is  frequently  a  third  layer  of  earth,  beneath  which  the  gold  and 
silver  vessels  and  the  household  deities  are  deposited.  The  idols 
are  of  clay,  stone,  and  copper,  or  of  the  precious  metals.  Those 
of  clay  are  hollow,  flat,  compressed,  and  in  most  instances  the 
faces  are  painted.  Those  of  stone  are  of  granite,  porphyry,  or 
sand-stone.  These  stone  images  are  solid,  and  often  several  feet 
high.  The  golden  idols  are  always  hollow  ;  but  they  exhibit  no 
distinct  trace  of  the  soldering.  They  are  of  various  sizes  ;  some 
of  them  weigh  three  quarters  of  a  pound.  Those  of  silver  are 
always  solid.  All  these  images  of  deities  have  the  same  physi- 
ognomy, and  disproportionately  large  head.  In  most  instances 
the  head  is  covered  by  a  peculiar  kind  of  cap. 

The  vessels  used  for  holding  water  or  other  liquids  are  very 
various  in  color  and  form.  Most  of  them  exhibit  ludicrous  carica- 
tures of  human  figures ;  others  are  unrecognisable  representa- 
tions of  animals  or  fancy  figures.  These  vessels  have  in  general 
two  apertures,  one  by  which  they  were  filled,  and  the  other  by 
which  the  liquid  was  poured  out.  On  filling  them  a  feeble  flute- 
like  sound  is  heard.  It  is  occasioned  by  the  air  escaping 
through  the  other  aperture.  Most  of  these  vessels  are  made  of 
red  or  black  clay,  well  glazed.  Those  for  holding  chicha  were 
very  capacious.  Some  of  them,  which  have  been  found  her- 
metically closed,  have  contained  chicha  upwards  of  three 
hundred  years  old,  and  remarkable  for  a  very  smoky  flavor. 
On  the  vessels  made  of  gourds  fanciful  figures  are  generally 
carved.  Gold  drinking  cups  have  been  found,  adorned  with 
well  executed  embossed  ornaments,  and  like  the  images,  showing 
no  trace  of  soldering.  Among  the  warlike  weapons,  the  stone 
battle-axes  are  very  remarkable  ;  they  have  at  both  ends  a  tube, 
in  which  the  handle  was  fixed  by  ligatures.  Articles  for  person- 


MODE  OF  BURYING  THE  DEAD.  351 

al  adornment,  such  as  nose  and  lip  rings,  neck  chains,  pins, 
bracelets,  and  ancle  bands,  are  usually  of  gold,  and  set  with 
small  colored  shells.  The  sceptres  of  the  Incas  are  of  gold,  and 
exquisitely  wrought ;  those  of  the  Curacas  of  silver ;  and  those 
of  the  Caciques  of  copper,  sometimes  gilt. 

Idols  and  utensils  made  of  wood  are  very  rarely  found.  It 
would  appear  that  the  ancient  Peruvians  found  more  difficulty  in 
the  working  of  wood  than  that  of  metal  and  stone.  The  Peruvians 
give  to  all  objects  dug  up  from  the  old  graves,  the  name  of 
Huaqueros,  from  Huaca,  the  word  for  grave  in  the  Quichua 
language. 

The  huacas  or  graves  vary  in  form  or  magnitude.  When 
destined  for  single  individuals  they  were  made  small  ;  but  when 
for  families,  they  were  of  considerable  extent.  On  the  sandy 
soil  of  the  coast,  no  elevation  marks  the  spot  where  the  bodies  are 
interred  j  but  further  inland  (though  still  in  the  coast  region), 
the  graves  are  for  the  most  part  elevated  and  arched,  and  are 
built  of  bricks.  In  the  Sierra  the  tombs  are  of  stone,  qua- 
drangular, oval,  or  of  an  obelisk  form. 

In  the  huacas,  the  bodies  are  found  in  a  sitting  position,  and 
supported  by  stones  or  reeds  :  the  face  turned  towards  the  east. 
In  front  of  the  body  it  was  customary  to  place  two  rows  of  pots 
containing  quinua,  maize,  potatoes,  dried  llama  flesh,  and  other 
kinds  of  provisions,  and  these  pots  were  all  covered  with  small 
lids.  On  each  side  of  the  body  were  ranged  cooking  utensils, 
and  vessels  containing  water  and  chicha.  The  body  and  all  the 
objects  deposited  in  the  grave  were  covered  with  a  layer  of  sand, 
above  which  were  spread  various  articles  of  clothing.  Over 
these  was  placed  another  layer  of  sand,  and  then  the  tomb  was 
built  above  the  whole. 

The  bodies  are  found  wrapped  in  several  coverings ;  and 
when  first  taken  out  of  the  graves,  they  have  the  appearance  of 
unfinished  statues;  the  position  of  the  head,  knees,  and  feet 
being  alone  recognisable.  A  strong  net- work,  composed  of 
twisted  straw  or  bast  incloses  a  thick  rush  mat,  in  which  the  body 
is  wrapped.  These  coverings  being  removed,  there  is  found  a 
broad,  woollen  bandage,  passing  round  the  body,  and  fastening 
the  rushes  or  sticks  which  support  it  in  a  sitting  position.  Under 


352  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 

this  bandage  is  a  red  or  party-colored  covering  which  goes  over 
the  whole  body  j  and  beneath  this  are  one  or  two  yellowish- white 
coverings,  strongly  sewed  up.  On  removing  these  coverings, 
there  are  found  some  pots  or  drinking  cups,  a  few  ornaments,  the 
Huallqui  with  coca,  and  in  most  instances  a  silver  or  gold  idol 
suspended  from  the  neck  of  the  body.  The  undermost  wrapper 
consists  of  a  cloth  of  rather  fine  texture.  Probably  it  was 
originally  white,  but  time  has  changed  it  to  a  reddish-yellow. 
This  covering  being  unsewed,  the  naked  corpse  appears ;  the 
head  alone  being  encircled  with  two  or  three  bandages,  called 
Huinclias.  The  body  is  always  in  a  sitting  posture  ;  the  knees 
being  drawn  up  towards  the  face,  and  the  arms  crossed  over  the 
breast,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  chin  rests  between  the  two 
clenched  hands.  The  wrists  are  tied  together,  and  the  ligature 
with  which  they  are  fastened  is  passed  round  the  neck.  This, 
which  was  evidently  done  only  to  keep  the  hands  fixed  in  the 
required  position,  has  led  some  commentators  on  Peruvian 
antiquities  to  suppose  that  the  bodies  found  with  strings  round  the 
necks  were  those  of  hanged  persons.  In  the  mouth  there  is  a 
thin  piece  of  gold,  silver  or  copper  ;  most  of  the  bodies  are  in  a 
good  state  of  preservation,  though  the  features  are  not  discernible. 
The  hair  is  always  found  perfectly  free  from  decay  ;  and  that  of 
the  females  is  beautifully  plaited. 

The  question  has  arisen,  whether  these  bodies  were  embalmed, 
or  whether  their  preservation  is  merely  the  result  of  the  mum- 
mifying nature  of  the  climate.  Both  conjectures  have  found 
zealous  supporters.  Don  Francisco  Barrero,  keeper  of  the 
Museum  of  Natural  History  in  Lima,  mentions,  in  the  Memorial 
de  Ciencias  Naturales*  that  among  the  ancient  Peruvians  certain 
men  were  appointed  as  embalmers,  and  he  describes  the  process 
they  adopted  as  follows  : — They  first  extracted  the  brain  through 
the  nose,  then  took  out  the  eyes,  and  stopped  up  the  sockets  with 
cotton.  The  bowels,  lungs,  and  even  the  tongue,  were  removed, 
after  which  the  body  and  skull  were  filled  with  a  kind  of  powder, 
which  immediately  after  it  is  taken  out  of  the  mummies,  diffuses 
a  slight  odor  of  turpentine ;  this  odor,  however,  it  soon  loses 

*  Vol.  II.,  p.  106. 


MUMMIES  AND  EMBALMING.  353 

on  being  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  air.  The  face,  hands,  and 
feet,  were  rubbed  over  with  an  oily  substance,  after  which  the 
body  was  incased  in  the  envelopes  above  described.  I  am  dis- 
posed to  believe  that  this  process  never  had  any  existence,  save 
in  the  imagination  of  Barrera :  it  indeed  resembles  the  manner 
in  which  the  Egyptians  prepared  their  mummies  ;  but  no  such 
method  was  practised  among  the  Indians.  The  mummies  col- 
lected in  the  museum  of  Lima  present  not  the  slightest  trace  of 
this  powder,  or  indeed  of  any  kind  of  preservative  material — a 
fact  which  is  mentioned  by  the  director  of  that  establishment, 
Don  E.  Mariano  de  Rivero,  in  his  Antiguedades  Peruanas.* 

On  those  parts  of  the  coast  where  it  never  rains,  the  combined 
heat  of  the  sun  and  the  sand  has  dried  up  the  bodies ;  in  the 
mountain  districts,  the  pure  atmosphere  and  the  peculiarly  drying 
nature  of -the  wind  have  produced  the  same  effect.  Similar  ap- 
pearances may  be  traced  to  different  circumstances.  Of  this 
fact  the  burial  ground  of  Huacho,  and  the  mummified  animals 
seen  on  the  level  heights,  furnish  the  most  convincing  proofs. 
In  districts  exposed  to  frequent  rain,  mummies  are  found  in 
very  bad  preservation,  most  of  them  being  mere  skeletons.  All 
are  in  sitting  postures.  In  those  parts  of  the  Sierra  where  the 
soil  is  impregnated  with  nitre,  bodies,  which  must  have  lain  in 
the  ground  for  several  centuries,  are  found  in  a  very  fresh  con- 
dition, notwithstanding  the  humidity. 

Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  and  the  Padre  Acosta  state  that  the 
ancient  Peruvians  were  acquainted  with  the  art  of  embalming, 
but  that  they  employed  it  only  for  the  bodies  of  their  kings.  In 
the  Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Cuzco,  there  were  found  excellently 
preserved  mummies  of  the  Incas,  each  seated  on  a  throne. 
Several  years  after  the  Spanish  conquest,  these  mummies  were 
conveyed  to  Lima,  and  were  buried  in  the  court  of  the  hospital 
of  San  Andres.  It  is  deeply  to  be  deplored  that  the  fanaticism 
of  the  Spanish  conquerors  should  have  destroyed  these  interest- 
ing remains  of  the  ancient  sovereigns  of  Peru. 

The  facts  adduced  in  the  course  of  this  volume,  relative  to  the 
barbarous  colonization  system  of  the  Spaniards,  must  sufficiently 

*  Published  in  1846. 


354  TRAVELS  IN  PERU. 


prove  how  adverse  was  Spanish  dominion  to  the  improvement  of 
the  natives,  and  to  the  prosperity  of  the  country.  For  Peru, 
Nature's  bounteously  favored  land,  let  us  hope  that  there  is 
reserved  a  future,  happier  than  either  the  past  or  the  present ! 


THE    END. 


WILEY  &  PUTNAM'S 

LIBRARY  OF  CHOICE   READING. 

"  BOOKS  WHICH    ARE   BOOKS." 

THE  Publishers  of  the  Library  of  Choice  Reading  beg  leave  to  call  attention 
to  the  following  classification  of  the  books  published  in  the  series,  by  which 
it  will  appear  that  novelty,  variety  and  standard  merit  have  always  been 
preserved,  and  the  promise  of  the  original  prospectus  faithfully  kept.  It 
was  proposed  to  publish  "  the  best  books  of  Travels,  Biographies,  works  of 
Classic  Fiction — where  the  moral  is  superior  to  the  mere  story,  without  any 
sacrifice  of  the  interest — occasional  choice  volumes  of  Poetry,  Essays,  Criti- 
cism, Contributions  to  History,  and  generally  such  single  volumes,  written 
by  men  of  genius,  as  will  equally  delight  the  scholar  and  the  general  reader." 
The  books  already  issued  and  ready  for  immediate  publication  may  be 
arranged  as  loiloAvs  : 

BOOKS    OF   TRAVELS. 

EOTHEN,  OR  TRACES  OF  TRAVEL  BROUGHT  HOME  FROM  THE 

EAST. 

THE  FRENCH  IN  ALGIERS.     By  Lady  Duff  Gordon. 
THE  CRESCENT  AND  THE  CROSS-2  vols.     By  Warburton. 
SIR  FRANCIS  HEAD'S  BUBBLES  FROM  THE    BRUNNEN. 
BECKFORD'S  ITALY,  SPAIN,  PORTUGAL,  AND  VISIT  TO  THE 

MONASTERIES  OF  ALCOBACA  AND  BATALHA— IN  PRESS. 
NOTES  OF  A  JOURNEY  THROUGH  FRANCE  AND    ITALY.     By 

Hazlitt — IN  PRESS. 

These  will  be  followed  by  SIR  FRANCIS  HEAD'S  Notes  of  a  Journey 
across  the  Pampas  ;  WATER-TON'S  Wanderings  in  South  America  ;  Miss 
RIGHT'S  Letters  from  the  Baltic ;  HENRY  NELSON  COLERIDGE'S  Six 
Months  in  the  West  Indies,  and  THACKERAY'S  Notes  of  a  Journey  from 
London  to  Cairo,  and  others — forming  altogether  one  of  the  m<  st  original 
and  select  collections  of  books  of  travels  ever  published. 

CLASSIC    FICTION. 

MARY   SCHWEIDLER,  THE  AMBER  WITCH.     The  most  interesting 

Trial  f'K  Witchcraft  ever  published. 
IODINE  AND  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.    From  the  Ger. 

man  of  La  Motte  Fouqu£. 
T.iE  DIARY  OF  LADY  WJLLOUGHBY 


WILEY  AND  PUTNAM'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 

V. 
BIO    ABEL    AND    THE    LITTLE    MANHATTAN, 

By  CORNELIUS  MATTHEWS.     Price  25  cents 

Contents  : — 1.  The  Ghost  of  New  York.  2.  Big  Abel  and  the  Little  Man- 
hattan get  a  Night  View  of  the  City.  3.  How  it  goes  the  First  Day,  v  ith 
the  City  Waking  up.  4.  The  City  head-foremost  in  business,  and  the 
Sncond  Day's  Work.  5.  It  strikes  Three,  and  the  City  takes  his  Comfort 
6.  The  City  at  his  Crimes;  the  Little  Manhattan  and  Big  Abel  still  Busy. 

7  The  Fifth  Day  of  it,  and  the  City  disporting  herself  in  a  very  low  way. 

8  Big  Able  and  the  Little  Manhattan  busy  as  ever — The  City  in  his  work- 
ing jacket.     9.  They  are  in  the  Seventh  Day  ;  and  where  the  City  finds  hit 
children.     10.  It  all  winds  up  with  an  entertainment,  a  bird's-eye  view  of 
the  whole,  and  where  the  City's  moving  to. 

VI. 

WANDERINGS  OF  A   PILGRIM    UNDER  THE 
SHADOW  OF   MONT   BLANC. 

By  GEORGE  B.  CHEEVER,  D.D.     Price  37£  cents. 

**  The  'Wanderings'  of  Dr.  Cheever  give  animated  and  picturesque  de- 
scriptions of  Alpine  scenery.  The  author  occupies  a  high  place  among 
American  prose  writers.  The  several  numbers  of  Wiley  &  Putnam's  *  Li- 
brary of  American  Books,'  already  published,  do  credit  to  our  infant  litera- 
ture. We  wish  the  enterprise  the  success  which  it  so  well  deserves."— 
Protestant  Churchman. 

"  In  our  humble  opinion  this  volume  will  find  a  greater  number  of  inter- 
ested readers  than  any  preceding  number  of  this  series.  One  reason  for 
believing  this,  is,  that  while  there  is  poetical  beauty  enough  in  it  to  gratify 
to  their  hearts'  content  that  class  of  readers  who  are  attracted  chiefly  by  the 
beautiful  either  in  style  or  thought,  it  contains  graphic  descriptions  of  some 
distinguished  characters  in  Switzerland  connected  with  the  religious  world, 
as  well  as  much  valuable  information  in  respect  to  the  present  religious 
condition  and  prospects  of  that  interesting  country.  Dr.  Cheever,  as  might 
be  expected,  did  not  mingle  in  the  glorious  scenes  which  he  found  under 
the  shadow  of  Mont  Blanc,  merely  as  a  poet,  nor  yet  a  philosopher,  but  as  a 
Christian;  and  his  recorded  reflections  are  fitted  to  render  good  service  to 
the  cause  of  truth  and  piety." — Albany  Religious  Spectator. 

"  This  forms  the  sixth  volume  of  the  '  Library  of  American  Bcoks.'  The 
nam  •*  of  the  author  will  insure  for  it  a  wide  circulation,  and  his  readers  will 
no  rtoubt  find  pleasure  in  the  perusal.  Dr.  Cheever  wields  a  graphic  pen, 
BLI  d  few  men  can  clothe  the  sublimities  of  natural  scenery,  or  the  manners 
<md  customs  of  the  people  among  whom  he  sojourned,  in  more  glowing  dic- 
tion, or  connect  with  them  more  poetic  and  hallowed  sentiments." — Com- 
mercial Advertiser. 

"  This  interesting  work  comprises,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  incidents 
of  travel,  copious  notices  of  the  theology  and  theologians  of  Geneva.  The 
descriptions  of  Alpine  scenery  are  admirable.  To  all  who  are  fond  of  lite- 
rary recreation  the  work  will  afford  ample  entertainment.  Th  >se  who  are 
familiar  with  Dr  Cheever's  writings  need  not  to  be  assured  that  it  will 
afford  p-ofitable  instruction  to  the  reader." — Jour,  of  Com. 


WILEY  AND  PUTNAM'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 

VIII. 
THE  RAVEN,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

By  EDGAR  A.  POE.    Price  31  cents 

Contents.— The  Raven;    The  Valley  of  Unrest;    Bridal   Ballad;    The 
Sleeper ;  The  Co]  iseum ;  Leonore ;  Catholic  Hymn ;  Israfel ;  Dream  Land  • 
Sonnet  to  Zante;  The  City  in  the  Sea;  To  One  in  Paradise;  Eulalie;  A 
Song  ;  The  Conqueror  Worm ;  The  Haunted  Palace  ,  Scenes  from  Politian 
Poems  written  in  Youth. 

"  The  chief  characteristic  of  its  contents  is  the  perfect  smoothness  of  its 
versification, — a  smoothness  which  is  purely  and  thoroughly  artistic,  and 
which  springs  from  a  complete  knowledge  of  an  art  but  little  understood, 
especially  in  this  country.  In  this  particular  Mr.  Poe  has  very  few  equals. 
His  poems  evince  a  brilliant  and  at  times  fantastic  fancy,  and  have  the  char, 
acteristics  requisite  to  wide  popularity." — Courier. 

"  Mr.  Poe's  volume  contains  some  very  good  poetry,  among  which  (making 
due  allowance  for  the  imitation  of  Miss  Barrett)  we  would  instance  the 
*  Raven,'  and  the  sonnet  on  *  Silence.'  He  is  capable  of  nobler  efforts  than 
such  fugitive  verses  as  compose  the  greater  part  of  this  collection.  The 
scenes  from  '  Politian '  occasionally  give  us  glimpses  of  true  dramatic 
power." — Protestant  Churchman 

•'  Mr.  Poe's  name,  as  a  poet,  is  well  and  favorably  known  to  the  public." 
—Christian  Intelligencer. 

"  There  is  considerable  inequality  in  the  pieces  that  compose  this  num- 
ber, but  there  is  not  one  of  them  that  could  have  been  produced  by  any  other 
than  a  highly  gifted  mind,  which  had  drank  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  the 
muses.  By  far  the  best  piece  in  the  collection,  is  the  one  particularly  men- 
tioned in  the  title-page;  and  unless  we  greatly  mistake,  there  is  poetry 
enough  in  this  to  confer  immortality  upon  the  name  of  its  author.  We  are 
glad  to  see  that  this  series  of  works  advances  so  well,  arid  that  it  is  likely 
to  prove  an  honor  to  the  literature  of  our  country." — Albany  Citizen. 

"  We  admire  them,  and  always  have  admired  Mr.  Poe's  writings,  but  wt 
are  particularly  pleased  with  the  pert  and  independent  preface  to  the  present 
rolume." — Emporium. 

*'  Edgar  A.  Poe  is  well  known  as  a  searching  and  scathing  critic,  and  an 
able  writer." — Philadelphia  Inquirer 

"  Mr.  Poe's  reputation  as  a  poet  is  well  established  and  will  be  improved 
by  this  collected  edition  of  his  poems." — Providence  Journal. 

"  This  work  is  one  of  *  The  Library  of  American  Books,'  and  its  coiter.ta 
ars  from  the  pen  of  one  who  has  written  and  continues  to  write  well.  Mr. 
Poe  is  an  active  litterateur,  and  his  reputation  is  widely  and  deservtJly 
spread." — Anglo-American. 

"  There  is  good,  substantial  poetry  in  the  collection — poetry  to  be  read, 
tdmired  and  remembered,  despite  the  critiques  and  efforts  of  those  who  would 
ridicule  them  into  oblivion." — U.  S.  Gazette. 


WILEY  &  PUTNAM'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


XIII. 
HAZLITT'S   AGE  OF  ELIZABETH. 

Lectures  on  the  Dramatic  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth.     By  William 
Hazlitt.     Price  50  cents 

"  The  present  century  has  produced  many  men  of  poetical  genius,  and 
iome  of  analytical  acumen  ;  but  I  doubt  whether  it  has  produced  any  or* 
who  has  given  to  the  world  such  signal  proofs  of  the  union  of  the  two,  at 
the  late  WILLIAM  HAZLITT.  If  I  were  asked  his  peculiar  and  predcini- 
nating  distinction,  1  should  say  that,  above  all  things,  he  was  a  CRITIC 
His  taste  was  not  the  creature  of  schools  and  canons,  it  was  begotten  of  En- 
thusiasm by  Thought." — Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton. 

*'  In  all  that  Hazlitt  has  written  on  old  English  authors,  he  is  seldom 
merely  critical.  In  the  laboratory  of  his  intellect,  analysis  was  turned  to 
the  sweet  uses  of  alchemy.  While  he  discourses  of  characters  he  has 
known  the  longest,  he  sheds  over  them  the  light  of  his  own  boyhood,  and 
makes  us  partakers  of  the  realizing  power  by  which  they  become  creatures 
of  flesh  and  blood,  with  whom  we  may  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry."  -Serjeant 
Talfourd. 

"  There  is  no  feature  in  the  retrospect  of  the  last  few  years,  more  impor- 
tant and  more  delightful  than  the  steady  advance  of  an  improved  taste  in 
literature  :  and  both  as  a  cause  and  as  a*  consequence  of  this,  the  works  of 
William  Hazlitt,  which  heretofore  have  been  duly  appreciated  only  by  the 
few,  are  now  having  ample  justice  done  them  by  the  many.  With  refer- 
rence  to  the  present  work,  the  Edinburgh  Review  eloquently  observes, 
*  Mr.  Hazlitt  possesses  one  noble  quality  at  least  for  the  office  which  he 
has  chosen,  in  the  intense  admiration  and  love  which  he  feels  for  the  great 
authors  on  whose  excellencies  he  chiefly  dwells.  His  relish  for  their  beau- 
ties is  so  keen,  that  while  he  describes  them,  the  pleasures  which  they  im- 
part become  almost  palpable  to  the  sense,  and  we  seem,  scarcely  in  a  figure, 
to  feast  and  banquet  on  their  *  nectared  sweets.'  He  introduces  us  almost 
corporally  into  the  divine  presence  of  the  great  of  old  time — enables  us  to 
hear  the  living  oracles  of  wisdom  drop  from  their  lips — and  makes  us  par- 
takers, not  only  of  those  joys  which  they  diffused,  but  of  those  which  they 
felt  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  their  souls.  He  draws  aside  the  veil  of  time  with 
a  hand  tremulous  with  mingled  delight  and  reverence ;  and  descants  with 
kindling  enthusiasm,  on  all  the  delacacies  of  that  picture  of  genius  which  ha 
discloses.  His  intense  admiration  of  intellectual  beauty  seems  always  to 
sharpen  his  critical  faculties.  He  perceives  it,  by  a  kind  of  intuitive  power, 
how  deeply  soever  it  may  be  buried  in  rubbish  ;  and  separates  it  in  a  mo- 
ment from  all  that  would  encumber  or  deface  it.  At  the  same  time,  he 
exhibits  to  Us  those  hidden  sources  of  beauty,  not  like  an  anatomist,  but  like 
a  lover.  He  does  not  coolly  dissect  the  form  to  show  the  sprm<™  whence 
the  blood  flows  all  eloquent,  and  the  divine  expression  is  kmaled ;  but 
makes  us  feel  in  the  sparkling  or  softened  eye,  the  wreathed  smile,  and  the 
tender  bloom.  In  a  word,  he  at  once  analyzes  and  describes — so  that  our 
enjoyments  of  loveliness  are  not  chilled,  but  brightened  by  our  acquaintance 
with  their  inward  sources.  The  knowledge  communicated  in  his  lectures 
oreaks  no  sweet  enchantment,  nor  chills  one  feeling  of  youthful  joy.' "— » 
Preface  to  the  London  Edition. 


WILEY  AND  PUTNAM'S  ADVERTISEMENT, 

DR.   LYELL'S  TRAVELS   IN   THE   U.   S. 

TRAVELS  IN  NORTH  AMERICA,  IN  THE  YEARS  1841-2;  WITH 

GEOLOGICAL  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  UNITED 

STATES,  CANADA,  AND  NOVA   SCOTIA. 

By  CHARLES  LYELI.,  Esq.  F.R.S.,  Author  of  The  Principles  of  Geology 
1  thick  vol.  12mo.,  beautifully  printed,  with  engravings  and  colored  maps, 
$1  75 ;  or  the  same,  bound  in  2  vols.,  $2  00 ;  also,  a  cheap  edition  with  ^dts, 
75  cents. 

"  We  heartily  commend  this  work  of  Mr.  Lyell's  to  our  readers,  and 
assure  them  that  its  perusal  will  be  an  intellectual  treat.  His  scientific 
notes  are  of  great  value,  and  make  us  rather  proud  of  our  country."— 
American  Agriculturist. 

"  The  production  of  a  ripe  scholar,  and  science  is  cosmopolite.  The 
work  is  full  of  shrewd  and  sensible  observations." — New  Orl.  Bee. 

"  We  indeed  rejoice  that  so  careful  an  observer  of  the  phenomena  of  na- 
ture has  given  us  such  a  mass  of  facts,  all  of  which  are  well  authenticated  " 
— Lutheran  Observer. 

"  Full  of  interesting  and  valuable  results." — Simms'  Mo.  Mag 

"  This  book  is  the  most  sensible  ever  written  on  America  by  an  English- 
man."—  Graham's  Magazine. 

"  The  author  is  just  the  kind  of  traveller  whose  opinions  we  should  re- 
spect. No  one  can  read  his  work  without  being  struck  by  the  fairness  of 
spirit  and  the  sincerity  with  which  he  writes." — Picayune. 

"  Mr.  Lyell's  book  is  quite  a  gem.  We  gather  from  every  page  of  this 
work,  the  most  valuable  information.  His  discussions  throughout  are  ex- 
ceedingly learned." — True  Sun. 

"  A  most  interesting  work,  and  one  of  the  highest  practical  value." — 
Pittsburgh  Chron. 

**  It  contains  a  mass  of  information  of  a  scientific  character  that  renders  it 
most  welcome  to  American  readers." — Hartford  Courant. 

"  This  work  will  prove  a  most  acceptable  one  to  American  readers  as  a 
book  of  popular  interest,  and  of  useful  scientific  information." — JV*.  Y.  News. 

"  It  is  a  record  of  the  observations  of  a  most  intelligent  traveller  and  fas- 
cinating writer.  . . .  The  author  has  the  rare  faculty  of  making  his  readers  feel 
as  if  they  were  his  eompagnons  de  voyage  ;  and  everything  that  he  relates 
seems  to  become  with  them  almost  a  matter  of  personal  experience.  The 
grace  and  beauty  and  power  with  which  he  describes  the  scenes  and  places 
that  he  witnessed  and  visited,  have  not  been  surpassed  by  any  modern 
tryrsller." — Albany  Argus. 

"  This  is,  indeed,  a  refreshing  book.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  a  man  of 
known  science ;  but  he  is  also  a  philosopher,  and  one  who  looks  rather  at 
the  great  causes  and  their  effects  in  Nature  and  in  society,  than  at  those  trifles 
which  take  up  the  attention  of  lesser  minds,  and  upon  which  such  minda 
but  too  frequently,  alone  delight  to  dwell." — Buffalo  Pilot. 

"  Few  books  more  really  valuable  have  recently  been  issued  from  the 
American  press." — Buffalo  Advertiser. 

"  Its  scientific  investigations,  and  its  impartiality  as  a  Journal,  render  thii 
work  worthy  of  being  extensively  read." — Hunt's  Magazine. 

**  We  have  read  this  book  with  great  pleasure  and  instruction,  ....  and 
can  confidently  recommend  it." — N.  O.  Delta. 

"  We  must  now  leave  this  desirable  and  instructive  publication  to  the 
popularity  it  so  well  deserves,  both  from  the  scientific  and  the  general 
reader 


WILEY  &  PUTNAM'S  ADVEPTISEMENY. 

affords  valuable  and  comprehensive  informatior.  concerning  the  Coloniza- 
tion Society's  settlement  at  Liberia.  Very  few  persons  have  chosen  that 
field  of  travel,  and  few  have  written  about  what  they  have  seen  ;  conse- 
quently this  work  is  the  more  agreeable."— Pennsyl.  Inquirer. 

The  present  Volume  is  No.  I.  of  WILEY  AND  PUTNAM'S  LIBRARY  OP 
AMERICAN  BOOKS.  The  Library  of  Choice  Reading,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, was  to  include  a  series  of  new  works  by  our  own  authors,  one  of 
the  most  acceptable  features  of  the  plan.  This  is  now  commenced,  and  it 
is  earnestly  to  be  hoped  that  it  will  meet  with  a  liberal  and  efficient  en- 
couragement. The  works  which  have  already  been  published  in  this 
form,  are  from  the  best  writers  in  England,  and  have  become  exceedingly 
popular  with  the  reading  public  here.  A  series  of  American  works,  se- 
lected with  equal  discrimination  and  taste,  cannot  fail  to  receive  as  cordial 
a  reception  especially  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  interests  of  authors 
in  this  country  are,  in  no  small  degree,  the  interests  of  the  people  at  large. 
The  title  page  of  this  work — "  The  Library  of  American  Books  "—is  an 
appeal  for  the  Literature  of  America ;  such  an  one  as  it  has  a  right  to 
make  in  its  own  behalf,  with  the  expectation  of  a  hearty  response." — N.  Y. 
Pott, 


«  i 


POE'S    TALES. 


TALES.     By  EDGAR  A.  POE.     1  Vol.  beautifully  printed  in  large  clear 
type,  on  fine  paper,  50  cts. 

This  collection  will  include  the  most  characteristic  of  the  peculiar  series 
of  Tales  written  by  Mr.  Poe.  Among  others  will  be  found  "  The  Murders 
of  the  Rue  Morgue,"  " The  Purloined  Letter,"  " Marie  Roget,"  "The 
House  of  Usher,"  "  The  Black  Cat,"  "  The  Gold  Bug,"  "  The  Descent 
into  the  Maelstrom,"  "  The  Premature  Burial,"  "  Mesmeric  Revelations," 
fee.  &c. 

*'  Most  characteristic  tales  and  stories." — Boston  Courier. 

"  These  effusions  are  well  known,  and  have  been  well  appreciated.  Mr. 
Poe's  singular  and  powerful  style  of  prose  writing,  has  a  charm  which 
ought  to  be  enjoyed  more  than  once." —  U.  S.  Gazette. 

"  Mr.  Poe's  tales  are  written  with  much  po  ver,  while  all  possess  deep 
interest. " — Phila.  Inquirer. 

"  There  are  many  writers  in  this  country  whose  articles  only  see  the 
light  in  the  pages  of  a  two  or  three  dollar  magazine,  who  are  at  least  equal 
to  some  foreign  author's  whose  works  are  reprinted  here  in  the  cheap  and 
najty  style  by  the  cart-load.  The  consequence  is  that  our  own  authors  are 
scarcely  heard  of,  while  Mrs.  Gore  and  Mary  Howitt,  Lover,  Lever,  &c., 
&c.,  are  lauded  and  read  the  country  over.  This  is  all  wrong,  and  we 
cerdially  wish  the  publishers  success  in  the  effort  to  make  us  better  ac- 
quainted with  American  Literature.  These  Tales  by  Mr.  Poe  will  be 
hailed  as  a  rare  treat  by  all  lovers  of  the  exciting  and  the  marvellous. 
Full  of  more  than  German  mysticism,  grotesque,  strange,  improbable,  but 
Intensely  interesting,  they  will  be  read  and  remembered  when  better  things 
are  forgotten." —New  Haven  Courier. 


Prospectus  of 
CAREY    AND    HART'S 

LIBRARY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE, 

On  Clear  Type  and  Fine  White  Paper. 

The  Subscribers  propose  to  publish,  under  this  general  title,  a  series 
of  the  best  productions  of  the  day,  from  the  British  press;  in  the  several 
departments  of  Standard  Literature. 

POPULAR  HISTORIES,  MEMOIRS  OF  EMINENT  PERSONS,  VOYAGES  AND 
TRAVELS,  where  such  are  found  to  possess  peculiar  interest  and  value, 
will  form  the  staple  of  this  u  LIBRARY,"  although  other  works  will  be 
embraced  in  the  range  of  selection. 

Fiction  will  be  excluded  from  the  series;  which,  while  it  is  intended 
for  all  readers,  will  more  particularly  aim  to  form,  and  at  the  same  time 
supply,  the  tastes  of  those  who  have  heretofore  had  but  limited  oppor- 
tunities of  access  to  books  of  the  description  therein  presented. 

Each  work  will  appear  in  its  integrity:  the  publishers  will  scrupu- 
lously refrain  from  the  slightest  omission  or  alteration  of  the  text. 

The  resources  and  facilities  of  the  publishers  enable  them,  with  con- 
fidence, to  promise  a  collection  of  the  highest  order  of  merit,  and,  as 
an  evidence  of  the  variety  and  extent  of  their  undertaking,  a  list  is 
subjoined  of  works  which,  among  others,  it  is  intended  to  incorporate 
in  the  "LIBRARY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE." 


1.  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

2.  CURIOSITIES  OF  PHYSICAL  GEO- 

GRAPHY. 

3.  AIKIN'S  MEMOIRS  OF  ADDISON. 

4.  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF 

PERU  BY  THE  SPANIARDS. 

5.  PALGRAVE'S  HISTORY  OF   THE 

ANGLO-SAXONS. 

6.  GREEN'S  LIFE  OF  MAHOMET. 

7.  REID'S  PHILOSOPHY  OF  DEATH. 

8.  HISTORICAL   MEMOIRS  OF  THE 

HOUSE  OF  BOURBONS. 

9.  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  THE  KNIGHTS 

OF  MALTA. 

10.  MOREHEAD'S  DIALOGUES  ON  NA- 

TURAL AND  REVEALED  RELI- 
GION. 

11.  LIVES  OF  THE  BRITISH  DRAMA- 

TISTS. 


12.  CORNER'S  CHINA. 

13.  ROLLING'S  LIFE   OF  GUSTAVUS 

ADOLPHUS., 

14.  DAVENPORT'S 'LIFE  OF  ALI  PA- 

CHA. 

15.  CORNER'S  BRITISH  INDIA. 

16.  CARRICK'S  LIFE  OF  SIR  WILLIAM 

WALLACE. 

17.  HISTORY  OF  GUSTAVUS  VASA. 

18.  LIFE  OF  HERNAN  CORTEZ. 

19.  HAYS' MOROCCO  AND  THE  MOORS. 

20.  TYTLER'S  LIFE  OF  HENRY  THE 

EIGHTH. 

21.  HISTORY  OF  REMARKABLE  CON- 

SPIRACIES   CONNECTED   WITH 
EUROPEAN  HISTORY. 

22.  AYTOUN'S  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  THE 

LION-HEARTED. 

23.  PROCTOR'S  HISTORY  OF  ITALY. 


The  series  will  appear  in  uniform  size,  printed  on  fine  white  paper, 
in  clear  type,  and  the  price  will  range,  according  to  the  number  of  pages, 
from  twenty-five  to  fifty  cents  per  volume. 

CAREY   <&,   HART, 

Chestnut  and  Fourth  Streets,  Philadelphia* 


CAREY    AND    HAET'S 


LIBRARY   FOR   THE    PEOPL-E 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


AMERICAN  PUBLISHERS'  ADVERTISEMENT. 


THIS  work,  which  is  now  presented,  for  the  first  time,  to  the 
American  public,  originally  appeared  in  Mr.  Murray's  "  London 
Family  Library."  It  acquired  immediate  popularity  in  England, 
where  it  has  been  frequently  reprinted.  It -is  believed  that  the 
interest  of  the  subject,  not  less  than  the  masterly  manner  in  which 
it  is  treated  by  the  author,  will  secure  for  it  an  equally  favourable 
reception  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  The  incident,  perhaps 
unknown  to  the  author,  and  which  may  be  new  to  many  American 
reader!,  is  worthy  of  being  mentioned  here :  After  the  demolition 
of  the  Bastile,  its  key  was  presented  by  General  Lafayette  to 
General  Washington,  by  whom  it  was  placed  in  the  hall  of  Mount 
Vernon,  where  it  yet  remains,  enclosed  in  a  glass  case,  fastened 
to  the  wall,  for  the  inspection  of  the  curious  visitor. 

The  publishers  invite  attention  to  the  style  of  mechanical  ex- 
cellence in  which  the  first  number  of  their  "  Library  for  the 
People"  appears.  This,  they  assure  the  purchaser,  shall  be  the 
character  of  all  the  succeeding  volumes  of  the  series.  Inde- 
pendently of  their  attractive  exterior,  only  such  productions  will 
be  republished  as,  while  affording  present  entertainment,  shall  be 
of  permanent  interest  and  value, — serving  not  merely  for  future 
reference,  but  admitting  of  re-perusal. 

In  addition  to  those  mentioned  in  the  Prospectus,  (which  is 
appended  to  this  volume,)  arrangements  have  been  made  for  the 
publication  of  various  other  works,  which  will  be  duly  announced. 


CAREY  &  HART,  Publishers. 


PHILADELPHIA, 
April,  1846. 


T 


THE 


HISTOKY  OF  THE   BASTILE, 


AND  OF  ITS 


PRINCIPAL   CAPTIVES. 


BY 

K.  A.  DAVENPORT. 


Then  shame  to  manhood,  and  opprobrious  more 

To  France  than  all  her  losses  and  defeats, 

Old  or  of  later  date,  by  sea  or  land, 

Her  house  of  bondage,  worse  than  that  of  old 

Which  God  avenged  on  Pharaoh— the  Bastile. — COWPEB. 


COMPLETE  TN  ONE  VOLUME. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

CAREY    AND     HART. 

1846. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

T.  K.  AND  P.  G.  COLLINS, 

PRINTERS. 


AUTHOR'S  ADVERTISEMENT 


THE  execution  of  a  plan  so  frequently  falls  immeasurably  short 
of  the  author's  original  conception,  that  some  wit,  of  whom  I  have 
forgotten  the  name,  has  likened  them  to  the  cry  of  an  Oriental 
fruit-hawker :  "In  the  name  of  the  Prophet — figs!"  I  can  bear 
witness  how  much  what  is  purposed  goes  beyond  what  is  accom- 
plished. I  began  loftily,  and  perhaps  the  reader  will  say  that  I 
have  ended  with — figs.  At  the  outset  I  designed  to  link,  in  some 
measure,  the  history  of  the  Bastile  with  that  of  France,  and  to 
trace  the  rise  and  progress  of  those  parties,  factions  and  sects 
which  furnished  inmates  to  the  prisons  of  state.  But  I  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  contracted  limits  of  a  single  volume  would  not 
admit  of  my  plan  being  carried  into  execution.  By  much  en- 
larging the  page,  and  by  making,  at  no  small  cost,  a  very  conside- 
rable addition  to  the  number  of  pages,  the  publisher*  has  liberally 
endeavoured  to  give  me  the  means  of  rendering  the  work  less  im- 
perfect than  it  would  otherwise  have  been ;  but  I  have,  neverthe- 
less, been  exceedingly  cramped  by  the  want  of  adequate  space. 

But,  though  I  have  not  done  all  that  I  wished  to  do,  I  am  by 
no  means  disposed  to  disparage  my  labours.  I  have  consulted 
every  document  that  was  accessible,  and  have  conscientiously 


*  Mr.  John  Murray. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

tried  to  be  strictly  just,  and  to  combine  information  with  amuse- 
ment. I  indulge  a  hope  that  the  volume  will  tend  not  only  to 
keep  up  an  abhorrence  of  arbitrary  power,  but  also  to  inspire 
affection  for  governments  which  hold  it  to  be  a  duty  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  the  people.  Whatever  may  be  its  defects,  it  is 
the  only  work  in  the  English  language  that  has  even  the  slightest 
pretension  to  be  denominated  a  History  of  the  Bastile. 

. 

••'(*•  'fj.\  lo 

'  .'jmwT  arft  tnlfovicft 
"    ri'Mlwarf-    int 
7  i  «r  tfotrm  woif 

^•nll    .&*»['••,&! 
iij;//  b»rrr>sv/t 


n    io  Jmi'  « 
•  '*M:.t 

; 
. 

a 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Original  meaning  of  the  word  Bastile. — Various  Bastiles. — Description  of 
"The  Bastile."— Officers  of  the  fortress. — Interior  of  it.— The  Garden. — 
The  Court  where  the  prisoners  took  exercise. — The  Towers,  Dungeons, 
Apartments,  Furniture,  Food,  of  the  prisoners. — The  Library. — The  Chapel. 
— Lettres  de  Cachet  described. — Advocate  of  them. — Change  in  the  treat- 
ment of  prisoners. — Narrative  of  a  prisoner. — Strict  search  of  prisoners. — 
Harshness  to  them. — Artifices  employed  against  them. — Silence  enjoined 
to  the  Guards,  &c.,  of  the  prison. — Mode  of  receiving  visitors. — Suppres- 
sion of  Letters. — Secrecy  and  mystery. — Medical  attendance. — Wills. — 
Insanity. — Clandestine  burial  of  the  dead.  -  -  17 

CHAPTER  II. 

Reign  of  John  II. — Stephen  Marcel,  Provost  of  the  Merchants. — Reign 
of  Charles  V. — Hugh  Aubriot. — Reign  of  Charles  VI.— Noviant. — La  Ri- 
viere.— Peter  des  Essarts. — John  de  Montaigu. — Contests  of  the  factions  at 
Paris. — The.  Count  of  Armagnac. — The  Burgundians  obtain  possession  of 
Paris. — Massacre  of  the  Armagnacs. — Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy.— Reign  of  Charles  VII.— Paris  in  the  hands  of  the  English. — Vil- 
liers  de  1'Isle  Adam.— The  English  expelled  from  Paris. — Reign  of  Louis 
XI. — Anthony  de  Chabannes. — The  Count  de  Melun. — Cardinal  de  Balue. — 
William  d'Haraucour. — Charles  d' Armagnac. — Louis  de  Luxembourg. — 
The  Duke  of  Nemours  and  his  children.  -  -  -  -  -  40 

CHAPTER  III. 

Reign  of  Francis  I. — Semblancai. — The  Chancellor  Duprat. — The  Chan- 
cellor Poyet.— Admiral  de  Chabot. — Fall  of  Poyet. — Reign  of  Henry  II. — 
Anne  du  Bourg. — Louis  du  Faur. — Reign  of  Francis  II. — Execution  of  du 
Bourg. — Francis  de  Vendome.— Reign  of  Charles  IX.— The  Duke  of  Lune- 
bourg. — Henry  of  Navarre  and  the  Prince  of  Conde  in  danger  of  the  Bastile. 
— Faction  of  the  Politicians. — La  Mole.— Coconas. — Marshal  de  Montmo- 
renci. — Marshal  de  Cosse. — Reign  of  Henry  III. — Bussi  d'Amboise.  -  69 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

PAGE 

Reign  of  Henry  III.  continued. — Conspiracy  of  Salcede. — Francis  de 
Rosieres. — Peter  de  Belloy. — Francis  le  Breton. — Bernard  Palissy. — Daring 
plots  of  the  League. — Henry  III.  expelled  from  Paris. — The  Bastile  sur- 
renders to  Guise. — Bussi  le  Clerc  appointed  governor. — Damours. — James 
de  la  Guesle. — Reign  of  Henry  IV. — Members  of  the  Parliament  arrested. 
— President  de  Harlay. — Potier  de  Blancmesnil. — The  family  of  Seguier. — 
Speeches  of  Henry  IV. — Louis  Seguier. — James  Gillot. — Outrage  committed 
by  the  Council  of  Sixteen. — It  is  punished  by  the  Duke  of  Mayenne. — 
Henry  IV.  enters  Paris. — Surrender  of  the  Bastile. — Du  Bourg. — Treasure 
deposited  in  the  Bastile  by  Henry.  -  -  -  -  -  -  90 

CHAPTER  V. 

Reign  of  Henry  IV.  continued. — Viscount  de  Tavannes. — The  Marshal 
Duke  of  Biron. — Faults  of  Biron. — Friendship  of  Henry  IV.  for  Biron. — La 
Fin,  and  his  influence  over  Biron. — The  Duke  of  Savoy. — Biron's  first 
treason  pardoned. — Embassies  of  Biron. — Speech  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to 
Biron. — Discontent  among  the  nobles. — Art  of  La  Fin. — Imprisonment  of 
Renaze. — La  Fin  betrays  Biron. — Artifices  employed  to  lull  Biron  into  se- 
curity.— Arrest  of  Biron,  and  the  Count  of  Auvergne. — Conduct  of  Biron  in 
the  Bastile. — His  trial. — His  execution. — Respect  paid  to  his  remains. — 
Monbarot  sent  to  the  Bastile. — The  Count  of  Auvergne. — He  is  sent  to  the 
Bastile  but  soon  released. — He  plots  again. — Cause  and  intent  of  the  con- 
spiracy.— He  is  again  arrested. — Sentence  of  death  passed  on  him,  but 
commuted  for  imprisonment. — He  spends  twelve  years  in  the  Bastile. — Mary 
of  Medicis  releases  him. — Conspiracy  of  Merargues. — He  is  executed. — 
Death  of  Henry  IV.  -  -  112 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Reign  of  Louis  XIII. — The  treasure  of  Henry  IV.  dissipated. — Prevalent 
belief  in  magic. — Cesar  and  Ruggieri. — Henry,  Prince  of  Conde. — The 
Marchioness  d'Ancre. — Marshal  Ornano. — Prevalence  of  dueling. — The 
Count  de  Bouteville. — The  day  of  the  Dupes. — Vautier,  the  physician  of 
Mary  of  Medicis. — The  Marshal  de  Bassompierre. — The  Chevalier  de  Jars. 
— Infamy  of  Laffemas. — Three  citizens  of  Paris  sent  to  the  Bastile. — 
Despotic  language  of  Louis  XIII. — The  Count  de  Cramail. — The  Marquis 
of  Vitry. — Peter  de  la  Porte. — Noel  Pigard  Dubois,  an  alchemical  impostor. 
— The  Count  de  Grance  and  the  Marquis  de  Praslin. — The  Prince  Palatine. 
— Count  Philip  d'Aglie. — Charles  de  Beys. — Letter  from  an  unknown  pri- 
soner to  Richelieu.  ----.-..  140 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE 

Reign  of  Louis  XIV. — Regency  of  Anne  of  Austria. — Inauspicious  cir- 
cumstances under  which  she  assumed  the  regency. — George  de  Casselny. 
— The  Count  de  Montresor. — The  Marquis  de  Fontrailles. — Marshal  de 
Rantzau. — The  Count  de  Rieux. — Bernard  Guyard. — Brossel,  governor  of 
the  Bastile. — The  Duchess  of  Montpensier  orders  the  cannon  of  the  Bastile 
to  be  fired  on  the  king's  army. — Conclusion  of  the  war  of  the  Fronde. — 
Surrender  of  the  Bastile. — Despotism  of  Louis  XIV. — Slavishness  of  the 
nobles. — John  Herauld  Gourville. — The  Count  de  Guiche. — Nicholas  Fou- 
quet. — Paul  Pellisson-Fontainier. — Charles  St.  Evremond. — Simon  Morin. 
— The  Marquis  de  Vardes. — Count  Bussy  Rabutin. — Saci  le  Maistre. — The 
Duke  of  Lauzun. — Marquis  of  Cavoie. — The  Chevalier  de  Rohan. — A  name- 
less prisoner. — Charles  D'Assoucy. — Miscellaneous  prisoners.  -  -  173 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Poisoners. — The  Marchioness  of  Brinvilliers. — Penautier. — LaVoisin 
and  her  accomplices  and  dupes. — The  "Chambre  Ardente." — The  Countess 
of  Soissons. — The  Duchess  of  Bouillon. — The  Duke  of  Luxembourg. — Ste- 
phen de  Bray. — The  Abbe  Primi. — Andrew  Morell. — Madame  Guyon. — 
Courtils  de  Sandraz. — Constantine  de  Renneville. — The  Man  with  the  Iron 
Mask. — Jansenists. — Tiron,  Veillant,  and  Lebrun  Desmarets. — The  Count 
de  Bucquoy. — The  Duke  de  Richelieu. — Miscellaneous  Prisoners.  -  212 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Reign  of  Louis  XV. — Regency  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans. — Oppressive 
measures  against  all  persons  connected  with  the  Finances. — Their  failure. 
— Prisoners  in  the  Bastile. — Freret. — Voltaire. — The  Cellamare  conspiracy. 
— The  Duchess  of  Maine. — Madame  de  Staal. — Malezieu. — Bargeton. — 
Mahudel. — The  Mississippi  scheme. — Count  de  Horn. — Death  of  the  Re- 
gent— Administration  of  the  Duke  of  Bourbon. — La  Blanc. — Paris  Duver- 
ney.— The  Count  de  Belleisle. — The  Chevalier  de  Belleisle.— Madame  de 
Tencin.  -  242 

CHAPTER  X. 

Reign  of  Louis  XV.  continued. — The  Bull  Unigenitus. — A  Notary  Public. 
— G.  N.  Nivelle. — G.  C.  Buffard.— Death  of  Deacon  Paris. — Rise,  progress, 
and  acts,  of  the  Convulsionaries. — Persecution  of  them,  and  artifices  em- 
ployed by  them  to  foil  their  persecutors. — Lenglet  Dufresnoy. — La  Beau- 
melle. — F.  de  Marsy. — Marmontel. — The  Abbe  Morellet. — Mirabeau  the 
elder. — The  Chevalier  Resseguier. — Groubendal  and  Dulaurens. — Robbe 
de  Beauveset. — Mahe  de  la  Bourdonnais. — Count  Lally. — La  Chalotais. — 
Marin. — Durosoi. — Prevost  de  Beaumont. — Barietti  St.  Paul. — Dumouriez.  265 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XL 

PAGE 

Captivity  and  Sufferings  ofMasersde  Latude — Cause  of  his  Imprisonment 
— He  is  removed  from  the  Bastile  to  Vincennes — He  escapes — He  is  retaken, 
and  sent  to  the  Bastile. — Kindness  of  M.  Berryer. — D'Alegre  is  confined  in 
the  same  apartment  with  him. — Latude  forms  a  plan  for  escaping. — Prepa- 
rations for  executing  it. — The  Prisoners  descend  from  the  summit  of  the 
Bastile,  and  escape — They  are  recaptured  in  Holland,  and  brought  back. — 
Latude  is  thrown  into  a  horrible  dungeon — He  tames  rats,  and  makes  a 
musical  pipe — Plans  suggested  by  him — His  writing  materials — He  attempts 
suicide — Pigeons  tamed  by  him — New  plans  suggested  by  him — Finds  means 
to  fling  a  packet  of  papers  from  the  top  of  the  Bastile — He  is  removed  to 
Vincennes — He  escapes — Is  recaptured — Opens  a  communication  with  his 
fellow-prisoners — Is  transferred  to  Charenton — His  situation  there — His 
momentary  liberation — He  is  re-arrested,  and  sent  to  the  Bicetre — Horrors 
of  that  prison — Heroic  benevolence  of  Madame  Legros — She  succeeds  in 
obtaining  his  release. — Subsequent  fate  of  Latude.  -  290 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Reign  of  Louis  XVI. — Enormous  number  of  Lettres-de-Cachet  issued  in 
two  reigns. — William  Debure  the  elder. — Blaizot  imprisoned  for  obeying 

the  King. — Pelisseri. — Prisoners  from  St.  Domingo. — Linguet Duvernet. 

— The  Count  de  Parades. — Marquis  de  Sade. — Brissot. — The  Countess  de  la 
Motte. — Cardinal  de  Rohan. — Cagliostro. — The  affair  of  the  Diamond  Neck- 
lace.— Reveillon  takes  shelter  in  the  Bastile. — Attack  and  capture  of  the 
Bastile  by  the  Parisians. — Conclusion.  -  -  -  ^^  -  329 


PLAN   OF    THE    BASTILE. 


A.  Avenue  from  St.  Anthony's  Street. — B.  Entrance,  and  first  drawbridge. — 
C.  The  Governor's  house. — D.  First  court. — E.  Avenue  leading  to  the  gate  of 
the  fortress. — F.  Drawbridge  and  gates  of  the  fortress. — G.  Guard-houses. — 
H.  The  great  court  within  the  towers. — I.  Staircase  leading  to  the  Council 
Chamber. — K.  Council  Chamber. — L.  Court  du  Puits,  or  Well  Court. — M.  Way 
to  the  garden. — N.  Steps  leading  into  the  garden.— -0.  Garden. — P.  The  moat 
of  the  fortress. — Q.  Passage  to  the  Arsenal  garden. — R.  A  wooden  road  round 
the  walls  for  the  night  patrole. — 1.  Tower  du  Puits. — 2.  Tower  de  la  Liberte. — 
3.  Tower  de  la  Bertaudiere. — 4.  Tower  de  la  Baziniere.— 5.  Tower  de  la  Comte. 
— 6.  Tower  du  Tresor. — 7.  Tower  de  la  Chapelle. — 8.  Tower  du  Coin. 


THE 

HISTORY   OF  THE  BASTILE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Original  meaning  of  the  word  Bastile. — Various  Bastiles. — Description  of  "The 
Bastile." — Officers  of  the  fortress. — Interior  of  it. — The  Garden. — The  Court 
where  the  prisoners  took  exercise. — The  Towers,  Dungeons,  Apartments, 
Furniture,  Food,  of  the  prisoners. — The  Library. — The  Chapel. — Lettres  dc 
Cachet  described. — Advocate  of  them. — Change  in  the  treatment  of  prisoners. 
— Narrative  of  a  prisoner. — Strict  search  of  prisoners. — Harshness  to  them. — 
Artifices  employed  against  them. — Silence  enjoined  to  the  Guards,  &c.,  of  the 
prison. — Mode  of  receiving  visitors. — Suppression  of  Letters. — Secrecy  and 
mystery. — Medical  attendance. — Wills. — Insanity. — Clandestine  burial  of  the 
de'ad. 

THE  word  Bastile,  which  has  now  long  been,  and  will  ever 
remain,  a  term  of  opprobrious  import,  to  designate  the  dungeons 
of  arbitrary  power,  has,  like x  many  other  words,  deviated  widely 
in  the  lapse  of  years  from  its  original  meaning.  Its  derivation  is 
traced,  somewhat  doubtfully,  to  the  Italian  bastia  or  bastions.  In 
former  times,  it  was  applied  to  any  fort,  whether  permanent  or 
temporary.  In  our  old  writers,  as  well  as  in  those  of  France,  we 
find  it  repeatedly  given  to  field  works.  The  redoubts,  for  instance, 
by  means  of  which,  in  the  reign  of  the  sixth  Henry,  the  English 
blockaded  Orleans,  are  so  denominated  by  French  chroniclers. 
The  same  is  the  case  with  respect  to  more  durable  works ;  there 
were,  at  an  early  period,  no  less  than  three  bastiles  at  Paris,  those 
of  St.  Denis,  the  Temple,  and  St.  Anthony,  all  of  which  were  situ- 
ated to  the  north  of  the  Seine.  Eventually,  the  name  was  con- 
fined to  the  last  of  these  buildings.  The  quadrangular  castle  of 
St.  Denis  was  demolished  in  1671 ;  but  the  tower  of  the  Temple, 
in  which  the  unfortunate  Louis  the  Sixteenth  and  his  family  were 
confined,  outlasted  the  Bastile  itself  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury, and  was  used  as  a  state  prison  till  1811,  when  it  ceased  to 
exist. 

The  Bastile  of  St.  Anthony — which  structure  I  shall  henceforth 


18  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

mention  only  as  the  Bastile — is  generally  supposed  to  have  been 
founded  by  Hugh  Aubriot.  This  opinion  is,  however,  erroneous. 
It  is  beyond  a  doubt,  that  the  original  plan  and  construction  of  it 
must  be  assigned  to  the  celebrated  Stephen  Marcel,  provost  of  the 
merchants  of  Paris.  When,  in  1356,  after  the  disastrous  battle 
of  Poitiers,  the  English  detachments  were  ravaging  the  vicinity 
of  the  French  capital,  and  the  citizens  were  filled  with  terror, 
Stephen  undertook  to  repair  the  dilapidated  bulwarks  of  the  city, 
and  add  other  defences.  Among  his  additions  was  a  gate,  fortified 
with  towers  on  each  side,  leading  from  the  suburb  of  St.  Anthony 
into  the  street  of  the  same  name.  These  towers  must  be  con- 
sidered as  the  first  rudiments  of  the  Bastile. 

The  haste  with  which,  while  an  enemy  was  at  hand,  the  walls 
had  been  constructed,  had  not  allowed  of  giving  to  them  that 
height  and  solidity  which  were  requisite  for  effectually  resisting 
an  attack.  In  1369,  Charles  the  Fifth  resolved  to  remedy  this 
defect.  The  task  of  making  the  necessary  improvements  was 
committed  to  Hugh  Aubriot,  the  provost  of  Paris.  Among  the 
changes  which  Aubriot  made,  was  the  adding  of  two  towers  to 
those  which  already  existed  at  St.  Anthony's  gate.  They  were 
erected  parallel  with  those  built  by  Marcel ;  so  that  the  whole 
formed  a  square  fort,  with  towers  at  the  angles.  In  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Sixth,  after  the  Maillotin  insurrection,  in  138*i,  the 
Bastile  was  again  enlarged,  by  the  addition  of  two  towers  at  each 
end  of  the  fortress ;  thus  presenting  a  front  of  four  towers  to  the 
city,  and  as  many  to  the  suburb.  To  render  more  difficult  any 
attempt  to  surprise  the  place,  the  road,  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
ran  through  it,  was  turned  to  one  side.  The  body  of  the  fortress 
received  no  further  accession ;  but,  before  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  a  bastion  was  constructed  on  the  side  toward 
the  suburb,  and  a  broad  dry  ditch,  about  forty  yards  wide  and 
twelve  deep,  faced  with  masonry,  encircled  the  whole. 

Along  the  summit  of  the  exterior  wall  of  the  ditch,  which  was 
at  an  elevation  of  sixty  feet  above  the  bottom  of  the  ditch,  was  a 
wooden  gallery,  called  the  Rounds,  reached  by  two  flights  of  steps. 
Day  and  night  sentinels  were  constantly  moving  about  in  this 
gallery ;  every  quarter  of  an  hour  they  were  visited  by  some  of 
the  officers  or  Serjeants;  and,  more  completely  to  secure  then 
vigilance,  each  man  had  certain  numbered  pieces  of  copper 
pierced  with  holes,  which,  at  stated  times,  he  was  to  drop  on  the 
point  of  an  instrument  fixed  in  a  padlocked  box.  A  bell  was  also 
rung  upon  the  Rounds,  every  quarter  of  an  hour,  throughout  the 
night. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BA  STILE.  19 

The  officers  on  the  establishment  of  the  Bastile  consisted  of  a 
governor,  the  king's  lieutenant,  a  major,  who  officiated  as  secre- 
tary, and  prepared  the  reports  and  monthly  accounts  for  the  minis- 
ter, two  adjutants  to  assist  him,  a  physician,  a  surgeon  and  his 
assistant,  a  chaplain,  two  priests,  and  a  confessor,  a  keeper  of  the 
records,  clerk,  superintendent  of  the  buildings,  engineer,  four 
turnkeys,  and  a  company  of  invalids.  No  soldier  was  allowed  to 
sleep  out  of  the  place  without  leave  from  the  governor ;  nor  could 
any  officer  dine  out  or  be  absent  all  night,  without  permission 
from  the  minister.  Originally  only  the  governor  and  the  king's 
lieutenant  were  appointed  by  the  king,  the  rest  being  nominated 
by  the  governor ;  and  guard  was  mounted  at  the  castle  by  a  body 
of  citizens,  which  bore  the  name  of  the  Independent  Company 
of  Archers.  The  change  was  made  about  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

The  interior  of  the  gloomy  fabric  must  now  be  described. 
Having  passed  down  St.  Anthony's  street,  and  arrived  nearly  at 
the  city  gate,  leading  to  the  suburb  of  the  same  name,  he  who 
wished  or  was  compelled  to  visit  the  Bastile,  turned  to  the  right 
hand,  in  the  direction  of  the  Arsenal,  where  stood  a  sentinel,  to 
warn  off  all  idle  gazers.  Before,  however,  the  main  building 
could  be,  entered,  the  visitor  had  to  pursue  his  way  along  an  ap- 
proach, bent  nearly  into  the  form  of  three  sides  of  a  square,  3U» 
flanked  with  buildings  of  various  kinds,  on  the  whole  of  one  side, 
and  a  part  of  the  other.  Over  the  entrance-gate  was  an  armoury, 
and  on  the  right  of  it  a  guard-room ;  on  the  left  hand  was  a  range 
of  suttling-houses,  and  on  the  right  were  barracks.  The  road 
then  made  an  abrupt  turn,  on  the  right  of  which  were  stables, 
coach-houses,  and  a  door,  into  a  space  which  was  called  the  Elm 
Court.  This  first  division  was  named  the  Passage  Court.  At 
the  extremity  of  it  was  a  drawbridge,  with  a  guard-house  at  its 
further  end.  This  bridge  led  to  a  second  court,  taking  its  name 
from  the  governor's  house,  which  with  his  garden,  occupied  one- 
half  of  its  circuit.  Another  abrupt  turn  brought  the  visitor  oppo- 
site the  portal  of  the  fortress,  which  he  at  length  reached,  after 
having  passed  by  the  kitchens,  and  traversed  the  great  draw- 
bridge. Between  the  street  and  the  interior  of  the  fortress  there 
were  five  massy  gates,  at  all  of  which  sentinels  were  posted. 

The  principal  drawbridge  being  passed,  and  the  gate  opened, 
the  visitor  stood  within  the  Bastile  itself.  Leaving  on  his 
right  a  guard -room,  he  found  himself  in  the  Great  Court  of 
the  Castle,  a  parallelogram  of  about  a  hundred  and  two  feet  long 
by  seventy-two  broad,  containing  six  towers,  three  on  the  side 


20  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

looking  towards  the  suburb,  and  as  many  on  the  city  side  :  the 
former  were  named  de  la  Comte,  du  Tresor,  and  de  la  Chapelle; 
the  latter  de  la  Bazaniere,  de  la  Bertaudiere,  and  de  la  Liberte. 
Between  the  three  left-hand  towers  were  rooms  for  the  archives 
and  other  purposes,  and  the  chapel ;  between  the  towers  du 
Tresor  and  de  la  Chapelle  were,  in  former  times,  the  gate  of  St. 
Anthony,  and  the  road  into  the  city. 

A  pile  of  buildings,  comparatively  modern,  extending  across 
the  shortest  diameter  of  the  fortress,  from  the  Tour  de  la  Chapelle 
to  the  miscalled  Tour  de  la  Liberte,  divided  this  principal  court 
from  another,  called  the  Well  Court.  This  pile  contained  the 
council  chamber,  the  library,  the  repository  for  the  prisoners' 
effects,  and  apartments  for  the  king's  lieutenant,  the  major,  and 
other  officers,  and  occasionally,  for  the  sick,  and  captives  of  dis- 
tinction. 

The  length  of  the  Well  Court  was  between  seventy  and  eighty 
feet,  the  breadth  between  forty  and  fifty.  At  the  angle  on  the 
right  was  the  tower  du  Coin,  on  the  left  the  tower  du  Puit.  In 
this  court  were  some  lodgings  for  the  drudges  of  the  place;  and, 
as  the  poultry  were  fed  and  the  offal  was  thrown  out  here,  it  was 
always  dirty  and  unwholesome. 

The  garden,  formed  out  of  what  once  was  a  bastion,  on  the 
suburb  side  of  the  castle,  was  laid  out  in  walks,  and  planted  with 
trees.  It  appears,  that,  till  a  period  not  long  previous  to  the  down- 
fall of  the  Bastile,  such  prisoners  as  were  not  confined  for  flagi- 
tious crimes,  or  for  the  express  purpose  of  being  rendered 
supremely  wretched,  were  permitted  to  walk  there.  To  the  last 
governor,  M.  de  Launay,  they  were  indebted  for  being  deprived  of 
this  privilege.  To  increase  his  already  enormous  emoluments, 
he  let  it  to  a  gardener,  and  he  had  interest  enough  with  the  minis- 
ter to  obtain  his  sanction  for  this  encroachment  on  the  scanty 
comforts  of  the  prisoners — an  order  was  issued  by  which  they 
were  excluded  from  it.  Nor  was  this  all,  or  the  worst.  The 
platforms,  along  the  summit  of  the  towers,  and  connecting  cur- 
tains, had  hitherto  afforded  a  pleasant  and  airy  walk;'  but  these, 
too,  were  shut  up,  at  his  desire,  partly  to  save  trouble  to  those  who 
watched  the  prisoners,  and  partly  to  diminish  the  chance  of  con- 
versation between  the  former  and  the  latter.  Such  conduct  is, 
however,  not  strange  in  the  man  who  could  meet  the  complaints 
of  his  oppressed  inmates  with  obscenely  vulgar  language;  and 
could  add,  that  "people  either  ought  not  to  put  themselves  in  the 
way  of  being  sent  to  the  Bastile,  or  ought  to  know  how  to  suffer 
when  they  got  there."  Humanity  deplores  his  subsequent  fate, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  21 

and  execrates  the  brutality  of  his  murderers ;  but,  as  far  as  regards 
him  personally,  M.  de  Launay  appears  to  have  been  deserving  of 
very  little  respect. 

The  only  remaining  spot  in  which  exercise  could  be  taken  was 
the  principal  court.  "The  walls  which  enclose  it,"  says  M. 
Linguet,  "are  more  than  a  hundred  feet  high,  without  windows; 
so  that,  in  fact,  it  is  a  large  well,  where  the  cold  is  unbearable  in 
winter,  because  the  north-east  wind  pours  into  it,  and  in  summer 
the  heat  is  no  less  so,  because,  there  being  no  circulation  of  air, 
the  sun  makes  an  absolute  oven  of  it.  This  is  the  sole  lyceum 
where  such  of  the  prisoners  as  have  permission  (for  all  do  not 
have  it)  can,  each  in  his  turn,  for  a  few  moments  in  the  day,  dis- 
encumber their  lungs  from  the  pestilential  air  of  their  dwelling." 
But  even  this  poor  gratification,  which  seldom  extended  to  an 
hour,  was  considerably  abridged  by  circumstances.  Any  increase 
in  the  number  of  prisoners  diminished  the  time  which  was  allotted. 
Whenever,  as  was  frequently  the  case,  any  stranger  entered  the 
court,  the  prisoner  was  obliged  to  hurry  into  a  narrow  passage, 
called  the  Cabinet,  and  shut  himself  in  closely,  that  he  might  not 
be  seen.  M.  Linguet  states  that  three  quarters  of  an  hour  was 
often  wasted  in  these  compulsory  retreats  to  the  Cabinet.  IT 
they  were  not  promptly  made,  or  the  captive  displayed  any  curi- 
osity, the  least  penalty  inflicted  was  confining  the  delinquent 
within  the  limits  of  his  cell. 

The  towers,  which  wrere  at  least  a  hundred  feet  high,  were 
seven  feet  thick  at  the  top,  and  the  thickness  gradually  increased 
down  to  the  foundation.  Lowest  of  all  in  them  were  dungeons, 
under  the  level  of  the  soil,  arched,  paved,  lined  with  stone,  drip- 
ping with  perpetual  damps,  the  darkness  of  which  was  made 
visible  by  means  of  a  narrow  slit  through  the  wall,  on  the  side 
next  the  ditch.  In  this  fetid  den,  swarmed  newts,  toads,  rats, 
and  every  variety  of  vermin  which  haunt  confined  and  gloomy 
spots.  Planks,  laid  across  iron  bars  fixed  in  the  wall,  formed  the 
couch  of  the  captive,  and  his  only  bedding,  even  in  the  most 
inclement  season,  was  a  little  straw.  Two  doors,  each  seven 
inches  thick,  with  enormous  locks  and  bars,  closed  the  entrance 
to  each  of  these  horrible  abodes,  over  which  might  fitly  have  been 
inscribed  the  terrific  line  that  shone  dimly  over  the  gate  of  hell, 
"All  hope  abandon  ye  who  enter  here!" 

Above  the  dungeons  were  four  stories,  each  consisting  of  a 
single  room,  with,  in  some  instances,  a  dark  closet  scooped  out  of 
the  wall.  All  were  shut  in  by  ponderous  double  doors ;  as  were 
also  the  staircases.  In  three  of  the  stories,  the  rooms,  of  an  irre- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

gular  octagonal  shape,  were  about  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  and 
eighteen  in  height.  In  many  of  the  rooms  the  ceilings  were  dou- 
ble, with  a  considerable  vacuity  between  them ;  the  lower  one  was 
of  lath  and  plaster,  the  upper  of  solid  oak.  The  highest  story 
of  all,  which  was  termed  la  Calotte,  was  neither  so  lofty  nor  so 
large  as  the  others ;  it  wras  arched  to  support  the  roof  and  plat- 
form, and  its  curvature  prevented  its  inhabitant  from  walking  in 
any  part  but  the  middle  of  the  room.  On  the  towers  and  curtains 
several  pieces  of  cannon  were  mounted. 

The  light  which  was  thrown  into  these  chambers  was  broken 
and  imperfect ;  prospect  from  them  there  was  none.  Each  room 
had  only  one  window;  and,  independent  of  the  obstacle  opposed 
to  sight  by  the  massiveness  of  the  walls,  there  was  another,  in  the 
double  iron  gratings,  at  the  outside  and  middle,  formed  of  bars  as 
thick  as  a  man's  arm,  which  closed  the  narrow  aperture.  In  the 
lower  stories,  that  there  mightjbe  no  chance  of  seeing  or  being 
seen,  the  opening  was  filled  half  way  up  with  stone  and  mortar, 
or  with  planks  fastened  to  the  external  grating.  Three  steps  led 
up  to  some  of  the  windows,  if  windows  they  may  be  called;  in 
other  cases  they  were  level  with  the  floor.  A  glass  casement 
excluded  the  wind  in  the  better  apartments ;  the  dungeons  were 
left  exposed  to  all  the  rigour  of  the  elements. 

The  rooms  were  floored  with  tile  or  stone,  and  all  of  them,  ex- 
cept the  dungeons,  had  chimne}^  or  stoves;  the  chimneys  were 
secured,  in  several  parts,  by  iron  bars.  In  winter,  six  pieces  of 
wood  were  allowed  daily  for  firing.  M.  Linguet  complains  in  his 
Memoirs,  that  the  quantity  was  insufficient,  and  the  quality  exe- 
crable. It  is  obvious  that,  to  enhance  his  profits,  an  avaricious 
governor  would  purchase  as  cheaply,  and  deal  out  as  scantily,  as 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  do. 

The  rooms  were  designated  from  their  situation  in  the  towers, 
numbering  from  the  bottom,  and  the  prisoners  were  designated  by 
the  number  of  their  room.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  first  chamber 
above  the  dungeon  in  the  Baziniere  tower  was  called  the  first 
Baziniere,  and  so  on  to  the  topmost,  which  was  known  as  the  Ca- 
lotte Baziniere.  The  prisoner  was  consequently  mentioned  not  by 
his  name  but  by  the  number  of  his  room — the  first  Baziniere,  the 
first  Bertaudiere,  the  third  Comte,  &c.  &c.  In  some  cases  it 
appears  that  the  prisoner  received  another  name  instead  of  his 
own,  which  was  never  uttered  or  written.  In  this  way  De  la 
Tude,  of  whom  we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak,  was  denominated 
Daury. 

In  what  manner  these  pleasant  abodes  were  furnished  M.  Lin- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  23 

guet  shall  describe.  "Two  worm-eaten  matresses,  a  cane  elbow 
chair,  the  bottom  of  which  was  held  together  by  packthread,  a 
tottering  table,  a  water  jug,  two  pots  of  delftware,  one  of  which 
was  to  drink  out  of,  and  two  flag  stones,  to  support  the  fire ;  such 
was  the  inventory,  at  least  such  was  mine.  I  was  indebted  only 
t(3  the  commiseration  of  the  turnkey,  after  several  months'  confine- 
ment, for  a  pair  of  tongues  and  fire-shovel.  It  was  not  possible 
for  me  to  procure  dog-irons  ;  and  whether  it  arises  from  policy  or 
inhumanity  I  know  not,  what  the  governor  will  not  supply,  he 
will  not  allow  a  prisoner  to  procure  at  his  own  expense.  It  was 
eight  months  ere  I  could  obtain  permission  to  buy  a  tea-pot, 
twelve  before  I  could  procure  a  tolerably  strong  chair,  and  fifteen 
ere  I  was  suffered  to  replace  by  a  crockery  vessel  the  filthy  and 
disgusting  pewter  vessel  which  is  the  only  one  that  is  used  in  the 
Bastile. 

"  The  single  article  which  I  was  at  the  outset  allowed  to  pur- 
chase was  a  new  blanket,  and  the  occasion  was  as  follows : 

"  The  month  of  September,  as  everybody  knows,  is  the  time 
when  the  moths  that  prey  upon  woolens  are  transformed  into 
winged  insects.  When  the  antre  which  was  assigned  to  me  was 
opened,  there  arose  from  the  bed,  I  will  not  say  a  number,  nor  a 
cloud,  but  a  large  and  dense  column  of  moths,  which  overspread 
the  chamber  in  an  instant.  I  started  back  with  horror.  '  Pooh ! 
pooh!'  said  one  of  my  conductors  with  a  smile, '  before  you  have 
lain  here  two  nights,  there  will  not  be  one  of  them  left.' 

"  In  the  evening,  the  lieutenant  of  police  came,  according  to 
custom,  to  welcome  me.  I  manifested  so  violent  a  repugnance  to 
such  a  populous  flock  bed,  that  they  were  gracious  enough  to 
permit  me  to  put  on  a  new  covering,  and  to  have  the  matress 
beaten,  the  whole  at  my  cost.  As  feather  beds  are  prohibited 
articles  in  the  Bastile,  doubtless  because  such  luxuries  are  not 
suitable  for  persons  to  whom  the  ministry  wishes  above  all  things 
to  give  lessons  of  mortification,  I  was  very  desirous  that,  every 
three  months  at  least,  my  shabby  matress  should  have  the  same 
kind  of  renovation.  But,  though  it  would  have  cost  him  nothing, 
the  proprietary  governor  opposed  it  with  all  his  might,  « for,'  said 
he,  *  it  wears  them  out.'  ' 

Each  prisoner  was  supplied  with  flint,  steel,  and  tinder,  a  candle 
a  day,  a  broom  once  a  week,  and  a  pair  of  sheets  every  fortnight. 

Captives  of  rank  were  undoubtedly  somewhat  better  accommo- 
dated, and,  where  there  were  no  particular  reasons  for  annoying 
them,  they  were  favoured  by  being  allowed  to  receive  articles 
from  their  homes;  but  the  common  run  of  convenience  and  com- 


24  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

fort  appears  not  to  have  gone  beyond  what  is  described  by  M. 
Linguet. 

The  food  of  the  prisoners  was  paid  for  by  the  king  at  so  much 
per  head,  according  to  a  graduated  scale ;  but  the  supply  and 
management  of  it  were  left,  seemingly  without  control,  in  the 
hands  of  the  governor.  By  this  arrangement  the  prisoners  were 
placed  at  the  mercy  of  their  gaolor,  who,  if  he  happened  to  have 
a  great  love  of  gain,  and  a  scanty  portion  of  humanity,  might  fill 
his  purse  by  furnishing  bad  provisions,  or  not  sufficient  to  sustain 
life.  "There  are  prisoners  in  the  Bastile,"  says  Linguet,  "  who 
have  not  more  than  four  ounces  of  meat  at  a  meal ;  this  has  been 
ascertained  more  than  once  by  weighing  what  was  given  to  them ; 
the  fact  is  notorious  to  all  the  under  officers,  who  are  grieved  by 
it."  In  estimating  the  amount  of  the  wrong  thus  inflicted,  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  man  who  is  in  bonds  requires 
more  and  better  nourishment,  to  keep  nature  from  sinking,  than  is 
necessary  for  the  man  who  is  a  free  agent.  There  was,  in  this 
instance,  no  excuse  for  stint.  The  sum  allowed  by  the  king  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  captives  was  exceedingly  liberal.  It  was 
nearly  half-a-crown  a  day  for  an  individual  of  the  humblest  class ; 
four  shillings  for  a  tradesman ;  eight  shillings  for  a  priest,  a  per- 
son in  the  finance  department,  or  an  ordinary  judge;  twelve  shil- 
lings for  a  Parliament  counselor;  twenty  shillings  for  a  lieutenant- 
general  in  the  army ;  one  pound  ten  for  a  marshal  of  France  ;  and 
two  guineas  for  a  prince  of  the  blood.  If  the  sovereign  oppressed 
those  who  incurred  his  anger,  he  at  least  did  not  mean  to  starve 
them. 

What  was  the  fare  which  this  high  rate  of  remuneration 
obtained  for  the  prisoners  ?  It  is  thus  described  in  a  work  pub- 
lished in  1774,  by  one  who  had  himself  long  tried  it.  I  am  not 
aware  that  the  accuracy  of  the  statement  has  ever  been  im- 
peached ;  on  the  contrary,  there  is  the  testimony  of  other  wit- 
nesses to  the  same  effect. 

"  The  kitchen  is  supplied  by  the  governor's  steward,  who  has 
under  him  a  cook,  a  scullion,  and  a  man  whose  employment  is  to 
cut  wood  for  fuel.  All  the  victuals  are  bad,  and  generally  ill- 
dressed  ;  and  this  is  a  mine  of  gold  to  the  governor,  whose  reve- 
nue is  daily  augmented  by  the  hard  fare  of  the  prisoners  under 
his  keeping.  Besides  these  profits,  which  are  inconceivably 
great,  the  governor  receives  a  hundred  and  fifty  livres  a  day  for 
fifteen  prison  rooms,  at  ten  livres  each,  as  a  sort  of  gratification  in 
addition  to  his  salary;  and  he  often  derives  other  considerable 
emoluments. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  25 

"On  flesh  days  the  prisoners  have  soup  with  boiled  meat,  &c., 
for  dinner ;  at  night  a  slice  of  roast  meat,  a  ragout  and  salad. 
The  diet  on  fast  days  consists,  at  dinner,  of  fish,  and  two  other 
dishes ;  at  night,  of  eggs,  with  greens.  The  difference  in  the 
quality  of  the  diet  is  very  small  between  the  lowest  rank  of 
prisoners,  and  those  who  are  classed  at  five  or  ten  livres ;  the 
table  of  the  latter  is  furnished  with  perhaps  half  a  starved  chicken, 
a  pigeon,  a  wild  rabbit,  or  some  small  bird,  with  a  dessert:  the 
portion  of  each  rarely  exceeds  the  value  of  twopence. 

"  The  Sunday's  dinner  consists  of  some  bad  soup,  a  slice  of  a 
cow,  which  they  call  beef,  and  four  littles  pates ;  at  night  a  slice 
of  roast  veal  or  mutton,  or  a  little  plate  of  haricot,  in  which  bare 
bones  and  turnips  greatly  predominate;  to  these  are  added  a 
salad,  the  oil  to  which  is  always  rancid.  The  suppers  are  pretty 
uniformly  the  same  on  flesh  days.  Monday:  instead  of  four 
pates,  a  haricot.  Tuesday:  at  noon,  a  sausage,  half  a  pig's  foot, 
or  a  small  pork  chop.  Wednesday :  a  tart,  generally  either  half 
warm  or  burnt  up.  Thursday:  two  very  thin  mutton  chops.. 
Friday:  half  a  small  carp,  either  fried  or  stewed,  a  stinking  had- 
dock or  cod,  with  butter  and  mustard;  to  which  are  added  greens 
or  eggs;  at  supper,  eggs,  with  spinach  mixed  up  with  milk  and 
water.  Saturday:  the  same.  And  this  perpetual  rotation  re- 
commences on  Sunday. 

"  On  the  three  holidays,  St.  Louis,  St.  Martin,  and  Twelfth-day, 
every  prisoner  has  an  addition  made  to  his  allowance,  of  half  a 
roasted  chicken,  or  a  pigeon.  On  Holy  Monday,  his  dinner  is 
accompanied  by  a  tart  extraordinary. 

"  Each  prisoner  has  an  allowance  of  a  pound  of  bread  and  a 
bottle  of  wine  per  day ;  but  the  wine  is  generally  flat  and  good 
for  nothing.  The  dessert  consists  of  an  apple,  a  biscuit,  a  few 
almonds  and  raisins,  some  cherries,  gooseberries,  or  plums;  these 
are  commonly  served  in  pewter,  though  sometimes  they  are 
favoured  with  earthen  dishes  and  a  silver  spoon  and  fork.  If  any 
one  complains  of  receiving  bad  provisions,  a  partial  amendment 
may  take  place  for  a  few  days ;  but  the  complainant  is  sure  to 
meet  with  some  unpleasant  effects  of  resentment.  There  is  no 
cook's  shop  in  the  kingdom,  where  you  may  not  get  a  better  din- 
ner for  a  shilling  than  what  are  served  in  the  Bastile.  The  cook- 
ery, in  short,  is  wretchedly  bad,  the  soup  tasteless,  and  the  meat 
of  the  worst  quality,  and  ill  dressed.  All  this  must  operate  to 
injure  the  health  of  the  prisoners ;  and,  added  to  other  grievances, 
excites  frequent  imprecations  of  vengeance  from  Heaven." 

With  respect  to  the  badness  of  the  wine,  Linguet  corroborates 


26  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

the  statement  of  this  writer.  The  governor,  it  appears,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  diet-money,  had  the  privilege  of  taking  into  his  cellars 
near  a  hundred  hogsheads  of  wine,  duty  free.  "What  does  he 
do?"  says  Linguet.  "He  sells  his  privilege  to  a  Parisian  tavern- 
keeper,  of  the  name  of  Joli,  who  gives  him  250/.  for  it,  and  he 
takes  in  exchange  from  him  the  very  cheapest  kind  of  wine  for 
the  use  of  the  prisoners;  which  wine,  as  may  easily  be  imagined, 
is  nothing  but  vinegar."  This  was  a  fraud  at  once  upon  the  go- 
vernment and  the  prisoners. 

The  sole  mental  recreation  which  the  prison  afforded  was 
derived  from  a  small  library,  consisting  of  about  five  hundred 
volumes.  This  collection  is  said  to  have  been  founded  by  a 
foreign  prisoner,  who  died  in  the  Bastile,  about  the  beginning  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  to  have  been  enlarged  by  later 
sufferers.  In  some  cases,  prisoners  were  allowed  to  read  in  the 
library ;  but,  generally,  the  works  were  taken  to  the  cells  of  the 
captives,  and  the  selection  of  them  depended  on  the  taste  of 
the  turnkeys.  Few  of  the  books  were  unmutilated;  for  the 
prisoners  now  and  then  indulged  in  writing  bitter  remarks  on  the 
blank  spaces.  As  soon  as  a  book  was  returned,  every  leaf  was 
carefully  examined,  and  woe  be  to  the  rash  offender  who  had  suf- 
fered passion  to  get  the  better  of  prudence  !  An  epigram,  or  a 
sarcasm,  on  his  persecutors,  or  on  men  in  office,  exposed  him  to 
the  worst  that  irresponsible  power  could  inflict.  As  to  the  volume, 
if  the  writing  was  on  the  margin,  the  piece  was  cut  off;  but  when 
it  chanced  to  be  inserted  between  the  lines,  the  page  was  torn  out. 

It  seems  to  have  been  thought  by  no  means  necessary  that  a 
prisoner,  who  was  deprived  of  all  earthly  comforts,  should  receive 
consolation  from  regular  attendance  on  religious  worship.  The 
chapel  was  a  miserable  hole,  of  about  seven  or  eight  feet  square, 
under  the  pigeon-house  of  the  king's  lieutenant.  "In  this  cha- 
pel," says  one  who  had  been  a  captive,  "are  five  small  niches  or 
closets,  with  strong  locks,  of  which  three  are  formed  in  the  wall ; 
the  others  are  only  wainscot.  Every  prisoner  admitted  to  hear 
mass  is  put  in  by  himself,*  and  can  neither  see  objects  nor  be 
seen  of  any.  The  doors  of  these  niches  are  secured  by  two  bolts 
on  the  outside,  and  lined  within  by  iron  bars ;  they  are  also  glazed; 
but  before  each  is  hung  a  curtain,  which  is  drawn  back  at  the 
Sanctus,  and  again  closed  at  the  concluding  prayer.  Five  pri- 

*  M.  Linguet  says,  that  each  of  these  niches  was  but  just  large  enough  for 
one  person,  and  had  neither  light  nor  air  except  at  the  moment  when  the  door 
was  opened. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  27 

soners  only  being  admitted  at  each  mass,  it  follows  that  no  more 
than  ten  can  assist  at  that  ceremony  in  a  day.  If  there  be  a 
greater  number  than  this  in  the  Castle,  they  either  do  not  go 
at  all,  or  go  alternately  ;  because  there  are  generally  found  some 
who  have  a  constant  permission." 

There  was  a  confessor  in  the  fortress  ;  but  it  is  scarcely  possi- 
ble that  a  prisoner  could  repose  entire  confidence  in  a  spiritual 
director  who  was  in  the  pay  of  his  oppressors.  Though  it  is 
going  much  too  far  to  say,  as  M.  Linguet  does,  that  such  a  man 
is  "a  cowardly  double-dealer,  who  prostitutes  the  dignity  of  his 
character,"  it  must  be  owned  that  some  doubts  and  suspicions  as 
to  him  might  naturally  arise;  it  matters  not  that  they  would  be 
unjust,  the  possibility  of  their  being  excited  ought  to  have  been 
carefully  avoided. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  concise  but  terrible  instrument  by  virtue 
of  which  an  individual  was  consigned  to  captivity,  perhaps  for 
life.  This  was  the  lettre  de  cachet,  or  sealed  letter,  so  called  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  patent  or  open  letter,  which  was  merely 
folded.  In  former  days,  such  epistles  were  called  lettres  doses,  or 
clauses.  The  name  was  not  given  to  all  sealed-up  missives, but  only 
to  those  which  contained  some  command  or  information  from  the 
sovereign.  They  were  signed  by  the  king,  and  countersigned  by 
one  of  the  secretaries  of  state.  The  same  appellation  was  ori- 
ginally given  to  all  letters  of  the  kind  described;  but  in  later  times, 
it  was  principally  if  not  wholly  applied,  at  least  in  common  par- 
lance, to  royal  orders  of  exile  and  imprisonment. 

The  oldest  recorded  mandate  of  this  species  is  that  which  Thi- 
erry the  Second  issued,  at  the  instigation  of  Brunehaut,  against 
St.  Columbanus,  who  had  severely  censured  the  vices  of  the 
mother  and  the  son.  It  directed  that  he  should  be  removed  from 
the  monastery  of  Luxeuil,  and  banished  to  Besan^on,  where  he 
was  to  remain  during  the  king's  pleasure.  The  saint  yielded 
only  to  force,  and,  as  soon  as  the  guards  were  withdrawn,  he  retired 
to  his  convent.  Violence,  however,  at  length  compelled  him  to 
quit  the  dominions  of  the  licentious  Thierry. 

The  lettre  de  cachet  was  usually  carried  into  effect  by  the  offi- 
cers of  police;  sometimes  the  arrest  was  made  at  the  dwelling 
of  the  individual,  sometimes  on  the  roads  or  in  the  street  by  night; 
but  in  all  cases,  it  appears  to  have  been  accomplished  with  as 
much  secrecy  as  possible,  so  that  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  for 
persons  to  be  missing  for  years,  without  their  friends  being  able 
to  discover  what  had  become  of  them.  Men  of  rank  Were  at 
times  spared  the  disgrace  of  being  taken  into  custody;  they  were 


28  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

favoured  by  being  allowed  to  carry  the  letter  themselves  to  the 
prison  mentioned  in  it,  and  surrender  to  the  governor.  Here  is 
a  specimen  of  these  obliging  billets,  which  was  addressed  to  the 
prince  of  Monaco,  a  brigadier  in  the  French  army. 

"My  Cousin, 

"Being  by  no  means  satisfied  with  your  conduct,  I  send  you 
this  letter,  to  apprise  you  that  my  intention  is,  that  as  soon  as  you 
receive  it,  you  shall  proceed  to  my  castle  of  the  Bastile,  there  to 
remain  till  you  have  my  further  orders.  On  which,  my  cousin,  I 
pray  God  to  have  you  in  his  holy  keeping.  Given  at  Versailles, 
this  25th  of  June,  *1748. 

(Signed)  "Louis." 

(Countersigned)  "VoYER  D'ARGENSON." 

By  such  a  scrap  of  paper  as  this  might  any  man  in  France  be 
doomed  to  close  and  hopeless  imprisonment.  Malice,  wounded 
pride,  rivalry,  revenge,  all  the  base  and  cruel  passions,  availed 
themselves  of  it  to  torment  their  enemies.  The  titled  harlot, 
whose  shame  had  excited  laughter  or  reprobation,  the  minister, 
\vhose  measures  were  unpopular,  the  frivolous  courtier  whose 
folly  had  been  satirized,  the  debauchee,  who  washed  to  remove 
an  obstacle  to  his  lust,  the  parent,  who  preferred  ruling  his  off- 
spring rather  by  fear  than  love,  was  eager  to  obtain  one  of  these 
convenient  scorpion  scourges,  and  the  wish  was  too  often  grati- 
fied. 

There  is  scarcely  any  enormity  so  monstrous  that  it  cannot  find 
a  defender.  Even  lettres  de  cachet  have  not  been  without  an 
apologist ;  and  to  make  the  wonder  the  greater,  an  English  apolo- 
gist. Let  us  listen  to  his  plea.  "Perhaps  (says  he)  it  was  the 
abuse  of  the  lettres  de  cachet,  rather  than  their  institution,  that 
merited  the  execration  in  which  they  were  held;  for  however  ex- 
traordinary it  may  seem,  they  were  not  unfrequently  used  to  serve 
the  purposes  of  humanity.  There  are  many  instances  of  per- 
sons who,  on  account  of  private  disputes,  or  affairs  of  state,  would 
have  been  exposed  to  public  punishment,  that  were  shut  up  by  a 
lettre  de  cachet,  until  the  danger  was  past  or  the  matter  accommo- 
dated or  forgotten.  It  may  undoubtedly  be  objected,  that  keep- 
ing a  person  from  justice  is  itself  a  crime  against  the  public;  but 
in  forming  a  judgment  upon  this  subject,  we  ought  to  take  into 
consideration  the  prejudices  entertained  in  the  country  where  this 
authority  was  employed.  It  should  be  remembered  that,  by  an 
old  and  barbarous  practice,  the  disgrace  attending  a  capital  pun- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

ishment,  inflicted  by  the  laws,  was  reflected  upon  all  the  family 
of  the  criminal ;  and  that  in  many  instances  it  required  a  public 
act  of  the  supreme  power  to  wipe  off  the  stain,  and  again  enable 
them  to  serve  their  country.  In  as  far,  therefore,  as  the  lettres 
de  cachet  counteracted  the  effects  of  these  prejudices,  they  were 
useful;  but  though  they  were  signed  by  the  king ', from  the  idea 
that  it  was  proper  to  have  them  ready  for  cases  of  emergency, 
ministers,  and  governors  of  provinces,  fyc.,  were  generally  fur- 
nished with  them  in  blank,  to  be  filled  up  at  their  discretions;  and 
the  friends  and  favourites  of  those  ministers  sometimes  obtained 
them  from  them,  as  is  proved  by  the  case  of  M.  de  Fratteaux, 
and  in  many  other  instances"* 

This  is,  indeed,  carrying  to  a  ridiculous  extent  the  determina- 
tion to  find  "a  soul  of  good  in  things  evil!"  Perhaps  it  would 
not  be  uncharitable  to  put  a  harsher  construction  on  such  language. 
Public  justice  is  to  be  defrauded,  thousands  are  to  be  plunged 
into  misery,  personal  safety  is  to  be  hourly  jeoparded,  crime  com- 
mitted by  the  rich  and  powerful  is  to  escape  with  all  but  complete 
impunity,  and  the  motives  which  most  influence  individuals  to 
bridle  their  unruly  passions  are  to  be  weakened,  merely  "  to  coun- 
teract the  effects  of  a  prejudice"  on  a  few  ancient  families  !  Never 
was  an  infinitely  small  benefit  bought  at  a  more  extravagant  price. 

From  certain  particulars,  which  we  find  in  various  memoirs,  it 
would  seem  that,  generally  speaking,  more  indulgences  were 
granted  to  the  inmates  of  the  Bastile  in  former  days,  than  during 
the  last  thirty  years  of  its  existence.  At  all  times,  however,  much 
would  undoubtedly  depend  on  the  personal  character  of  the  go- 
vernor; if  he  chanced  to  be  liberal-minded  and  humane,  he  would, 
as  far  as  he  could  venture  to  do  so,  mitigate  the  sufferings  of  his 
captives;  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  were  greedy  of  gain,  and  harsh 
in  his  disposition,  he  would  stint  and  deteriorate  their  diet, 
wantonly  deny  them  even  the  most  trifling  comforts,  and,  in  short, 
do  his  best  to  make  the  management  of  the  prison  "render  life  a 
burthen,"  which,  with  an  impudent  candour,  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  castle  avowed  to  be  its  especial  purpose. 

It  must  be  owned  that,  in  some  respects,  modern  times  wit- 
nessed an  improvement  in  the  practice  of  the  Bastile.  The  cages 
which  it  is  known  once  to  have  contained,  were  removed.  The 
rack,  also,  and  other  instruments  of  torture,  ceased  to  be  called 

*  M.  de  Fratteaux  was  seized  in  England,  and  carried  off  by  the  French  offi- 
cers of  police.  "  His  misfortunes  seem  to  have  been  owing  to  an  unnatural 
father,  who  being  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  minister,  obtained  a  lettre  de 
cachet  to  arrest  and  confine  his  son." 


30  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


into  use.  At  what  period  the  change  took  place  is  not  said. 
That,  in  the  latter  end  of  Louis  the  Thirteenth's  reign,  the  instru- 
ments still  existed  in  the  castle,  we  learn  from  the  Memoirs  of  the 
faithful  La  Porte,  who  saw  them,  and  was  threatened  with  them 
to  extort  a  confession. 

What  the  Bastile  was  in  its  mildest  form  will  appear  from  the 
following  narrative,  written  by  a  person  who  was  confined  for 
eight  months.  "About  five  in  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  April, 
1771,"  says  the  narrator,  "I  was  awakened  by  a  violent  knocking 
at  my  chamber  door,  and  was  commanded,  in  the  name  of  the 
king,  to  open  it.  I  did  so,  and  an  exempt  of  the  police,  three  men 
who  appeared  to  be  under  his  orders,  and  a  commissary,  entered 
the  room.  They  desired  me  to  dress  myself,  and  began  to  search 
the  apartment.  They  ordered  me  to  open  my  drawers,  and  hav- 
ing examined  my  papers,  they  took  such  as  they  chose,  and  put 
them  into  a  box,  which,  as  I  understood  afterwards,  was  carried 
to  the  police-office.  The  commissary  asked  me  my  name,  my  age, 
the  place  where  I  was  born,  how  long  I  had  been  at  Paris,  and  the 
manner  in  which  I  spent  my  time.  The  examination  was  written 
down  by  him;  a  list  was  made  of  everything  found  in  the  room, 
which,  together  with  the  examination,  I  was  desired  to  read  and 
sign.  The  exempt  then  told  me  to  take  all  my  body  linen,  and 
such  clothes  as  I  chose,  and  to  come  along  with  them.  At  the 
word  all  I  started ;  I  guessed  where  they  were  about  to  take  me, 
and  it  seemed  to  announce  to  me  a  long  train  of  misery. 

"Having  shut  and  sealed  the  draws,  they  desired  me  to  follow 
them ;  and  in  going  out,  they  locked  the  chamber  door  and  took 
the  key.  On  coming  to  the  street,  I  found  a  coach,  into  which  I 
was  desired  to  go,  and  the  others  followed  me.  After  sitting  for 
some  time,  the  commissary  told  me  they  were  carrying  me  to  the 
Bastile,  and  soon  afterwards  I  saw  the  towers.  They  did  not  go 
the  shortest  and  direct  road ;  which  I  suppose  was  to  conceal  our 
destination  fronj  those  who  might  have  observed  us.  The  coach 
stopped  at  the  gate  in  St.  Anthony's  street.  I  saw  the  coachman 
make  signs  to  the  sentinel,  and  soon  after  the  gate  was  opened  ; 
the  guard  was  under  arms,  and  I  heard  the  gate  shut  again.  On 
coming  to  the  first  drawbridge,  it  was  let  down,  the  guard  there 
being  likewise  under  arms.  The  coach  went  on,  and  entered  the 
castle,  where  I  saw  another  guard  under  arms.  It  stopped  at  a 
flight  of  steps,  at  the  bottom  of  the  court,  where  being  desired  to 
go  out,  I  was  conducted  to  a  room  which  I  heard  named  the 
council  chamber.  I  found  three  persons  sitting  at  a  table,  who, 
as  I  was  told,  were  the  king's  lieutenant,  the  major,  and  his 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  31 

deputy.  The  major  asked  me  nearly  the  same  questions  which 
the  commissary  had  done,  and  observed  the  same  formalities  in 
directing  me  to  read  and  sign  the  .examination.  I  was  then  de- 
sired to  empty  my  pockets  and  lay  what  I  had  in  them  on  the 
table.  My  handkerchief  and  snuff-box  being  returned  to  me,  my 
money,  watch,  and  indeed  everything  else,  were  put  into  a  box 
that  was  sealed  in  rny  presence,  and  an  inventory  having  been 
made  of  them,  it  was  likewise  read  and  signed  by  me.  The  ma- 
jor then  called  for  the  turnkey  whose  turn  of  duty  it  was,  and 
having  asked  what  room  was  empty,  he  said,  the  Calotte  de  la 
Bertaudiere.  He  was  ordered  to  convey  me  to  it,  and  to  carry 
thither  my  linen  and  clothes.  The  turnkey  having  done  so,  left 
me  and  locked  the  doors.  The  weather  was  still  extremely  cold,  and 
I  was  glad  to  see  him  return  soon  afterwards  with  fire-wood,  a 
tinder-box,  and  a  candle.  He  made  my  fire,  but  told  me,  on 
leaving  the  tinder-box,  that  I  might  in  future  do  it  myself  when 
so  inclined.* 

"From  the  time  the  exempt  of  police  came  into  my  room,  I  had 
not  ceased  to  form  conjectures  about  the  cause  of  my  imprison- 
ment. I  knew  of  none  unless  it  were  some  verses  and  sketches, 
relative  to  the  affairs  of  the  times.  Though  they  were  indiscreet, 
they  were  of  little  importance.  The  only  writing  that  might  have 
seriously  given  offence  to  the  government,  I  had  never  shown  but 
to  one  person  in  whom  I  thought  I  could  confide.  I  found  after- 
wards he  had  betrayed  me. 

"  When  1  heard  the  double  doors  shut  upon  me  a  second  time, 
casting  my  eyes  round  my  habitation,  I  fancied  I  now  saw  the 
extent  of  all  that  was  left  to  me  in  this  world  for  the  rest  of  my 
days.  Besides  the  malignity  of  enemies,  and  the  anger  of  a 
minister,  I  felt  that  I  ran  the  risk  of  being  forgotten;  the  fate  of 
many  who  have  no  one  of  influence  to  protect  them,  or  who  have 
not  particularly  attracted  the  notice  of  the  public.  Naturally 
fond  of  society,  I  confess  I  looked  forward  to  the  abyss  of  lonely 
wretchedness,  that  I  thought  awaited  me,  with  a  degree  of  horror 
that  cannot  easily  be  described.  I  even  regretted  now  what  I  had 
formerly  considered  as  the  greatest  blessing,  a  healthy  constitu- 
tion that  had  never  been  affected  by  disease. 

"I  recollect  with  humble  gratitude  the  first  gleam  of  comfort 
that  shot  across  this  gloom.  It  was  the  idea,  that  neither  massive 
walls,  nor  tremendous  bolts,  nor  all  the  vigilance  of  suspicious 

*  Prisoners  who  were  not  allowed  to  have  a  servant  of  their  own,  sometimes 
were  indulged  with  an  invalid  soldier  to  attend  them  ;  but  those  who  had  nei- 
ther, made  their  bed,  lighted  their  fire,  and  swept  their  room,  themselves. 


32  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

keepers,  could  conceal  me  from  the  sight  of  God.  This  thought 
I  fondly  cherished,  and  it  gave  me  infinite  consolation  in  the 
course  of  my  imprisonment,  and  principally  contributed  to  enable 
me  to  support  it,  with  a  degree  of  fortitude  and  resignation  that  I 
have  since  wondered  at — I  no  longer  felt  myself  alone. 

"  At  eleven,  my  reflections  were  interrupted  by  the  turnkey, 
who  entered  with  my  dinner.  Having  spread  the  table  with  a 
clean  napkin,  he  placed  the  dishes  on  it,  cut  the  meat,  and  retired, 
taking  away  the  knife.  The  dishes,  plates,  fork,  spoon,  and  gob- 
let, were  of  pewter.  The  dinner  consisted  of  soup  and  bouilli,  a 
piece  of  roasted  meat,  a  bottle  of  good  table  wine,  and  a  pound 
loaf  of  the  best  kind  of  household  bread.  In  the  evening,  at 
seven,  he  brought  my  supper,  which  consisted  of  a  roast  dish  and 
a  ragout.  The  same  ceremony  was  observed  in  cutting  the  meat, 
to  render  the  knife  unnecessary  to  me.  He  took  away  the  dishes 
he  had  brought  for  dinner,  and  returned  at  eight  the  next  morning 
to  take  away  the  supper  things.  Fridays  and  Saturdays  being 
fast  or  maigre  days,  the  dinner  consisted  of  soup,  a  dish  of  fish, 
and  two  dishes  of  vegetables ;  the  suppers,  of  two  dishes  of  gar- 
den stuff,  and  an  omelet,  or  something  made  with  eggs  and  milk. 
The  dinners  and  suppers  of  each  day  in  the  week  were  different, 
but  every  week  was  the  same  :  so  that  the  ordinary  class  of  pri- 
soners saw  in  the  course  of  the  first  week  their  bill  of  fare  for 
fifty  years,  if  they  staid  so  long. 

**I  had  remained  in  my  room  about  three  weeks,  when  I  was 
one  morning  carried  down  to  the  council  chamber,  where  I  found 
the  commissary.  He  began  by  asking  most  of  the  questions  that 
had  been  put  to  me  before.  He  then  asked  if  I  had  any  know- 
ledge of  some  works  he  named,  meaning  those  that  had  been 
written  by  me; — if  I  was  acquainted  with  the  author  of  them; — 
whether  there  were  any  persons  concerned  with  him  ; — and  if  I 
knew  whether  they  had  been  printed?  I  told  him  that,  as  I  did 
not  mean  to  conceal  anything,  I  should  avoid  giving  him  needless 
trouble ;  that  I  myself  was  the  author  of  the  works  he  had  men- 
tioned, and  guessed  I  was  there  on  that  account; — that  they  never 
had  been  printed ;  that  the  work,  which  I  conceived  was  the  cause 
of  my  confinement,  had  never  been  shown  to  any  but  one  person, 
whom  I  thought  my  friend ;  and  having  no  accomplices,  the  of- 
fence, if  there  was  any,  rested,  solely  with  myself.  He  said  my 
examination  was  one  of  the  shortest  he  had  ever  been  employed 
at,  for  it  ended  here.  I  was  carried  back  to  my  room,  and  the 
next  day  was  shaved  for  the  first  time  since  my  confinement. 

"A  few  days  afterwards  I  wrote  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  police, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  33 

requesting  to  be  indulged  with  the  use  of  books,  pen,  ink,  and 
paper,  which  was  granted ;  but  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  down  to 
the  library  to  choose  the  books.  Several  volumes  were  brought 
to  me  by  the  turnkey,  who,  when  I  desired  it,  carried  them  back 
and  brought  others. 

"  After  my  last  examination  I  was  taken  down  almost  daily, 
and  allowed  to  walk  about  an  hour  in  the  court  within  view  of 
the  sentinel :  but  my  walks  were  frequently  interrupted ;  for  if 
any  one  appeared,  the  sentinel  called  out  4To  the  Cabinet !'  and  I 
was  then  obliged  to  conceal  myself  hastily  in  a  kind  of  dark  closet 
in  the  wall  near  the  chapel. 

"The  sheets  of  my  bed  were  changed  once  a  fortnight;  I  was 
allowed  four  towels  a  week,  and  my  linen  was  taken  to  be  washed 
every  Saturday.  I  had  a  tallow  candle  daily,  and  in  the  cold 
season  a  certain  number  of  pieces  of  firewood.  I  was  told  that 
the  allowance  of  fire  to  the  prisoners  began  the  1st  of  November, 
and  ceased  on  the  1st  of  April,  and  that  my  having  a  fire  in  April 
was  a  particular  indulgence. 

"After  being  detained  above  eight  months,  I  was  informed  that 
an  order  had  come  to  discharge  me.  I  was  desired  to  go  down 
to  the  council  chamber :  everything  I  had  brought  with  me  was 
returned,  together  with  the  key  of  my  apartment,  which  I  found 
exactly  in  the  state  I  left  it  on  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  April, 
1771. 

"During  my  confinement  I  wrote  many  letters  to  several  of  my 
friends,  which  were  always  received  with  civility,  but  not  one  of 
them  had  been  delivered." 

The  aspect  of  captivity  in  the  Bastile,  even  when  stripped  of  a 
part  of  its  horrors,  is  surely  hideous  enough.  But  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that,  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  an  enormous  degree  of 
severity  was  exercised.  Instead  of  being  told,  as  in  this  instance, 
to  give  up  the  contents  of  his  pockets,  the  prisoner  was  rudely 
searched  by  four  men,  who  amused  themselves  with  making  vul- 
gar jokes  and  remarks  while  they  were  performing  the  task : 
sometimes  his  own  garments  were  taken  from  him,  and  he  was 
clothed  in  rags.  His  sufferings  from  imprisonment  might  also  be 
frightfully  aggravated,  by  thrusting  him  into  one  of  the  humid 
and  pestilential  dungeons,  or  into  a  room  which  was  in  the  vicinity 
of  a  nuisance.  M.  Linguet  was  confined  in  a  chamber  which 
fronted  the  mouth  of  the  common  sewer  of  St.  Anthony's  street, 
so  that  the  air  which  he  breathed  was  never  pure ;  but  in  hot 
weather,  in  the  spring  and  autumnal  floods,  and  whenever  the 
sewer  was  cleaned,  the  mephitic  vapours,  which  penetrated  into 
3 


34  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

his  cell,  and  accumulated  there  for  want  of  an  outlet,  were  scarcely 
to  be  endured.  What  were  the  interior  accommodations  of  this 
cell  the  reader  has  already  seen. 

The  prisoner  was  not  left  to  divine  the  motive  for  depriving 
him  of  all  incisive  and  pointed  instruments ;  he  was  bluntly  in- 
formed that  it  was  done  to  prevent  him  from  cutting  his  own 
throat  or  the  throats  of  his  keepers.  The  reason  assigned  for  the 
precaution  shows  sufficiently,  that  the  officers  of  the  Bastile 
rightly  estimated  the  capability  of  exciting  despair,  which  was 
possessed  by  their  prison.  This  preventive  system  was  carried 
to  an  almost  ludicrous  extent.  Wishing  to  beguile  the  tedium  of 
captivity,  M.  Linguet  resolved  to  resume  his  geometrical  studies, 
and  he  accordingly  requested  to  be  supplied  with  a  case  of  mathe- 
matical instruments.  After  much  demur,  the  case  was  obtained, 
but  it  was  without  a  pair  of  compasses.  When  he  remonstrated 
respecting  the  omission,  he  was  told,  that  "  arms  were  prohibited 
in  the  Bastile."  At  length,  his  gaolers  hit  upon  the  happy  idea 
of  having  the  compasses  made  of  bone.  Candour,  however,  re- 
quires the  acknowledgment  that  their  fears  were  not  wholly 
groundless,  instances  having  occurred  in  which  prisoners  were 
driven  to  desperation.  It  was  with  a  pair  of  compasses  that  the 
unfortunate  Count  Lally  endeavoured  to  put  an  end  to  his  exist- 
ence. His  attempt  was  made  in  the  year  1766,  and,  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  a  more  fatal  event  took  place.  A  captive,  Drohart 
by  name,  contrived  to  secrete  a  knife,  with  which  he  first  mor- 
tally wounded  a  turnkey,  and  then  destroyed  himself. 

For  some  time  after  his  arrival  at  the  Bastile,  everything  seems 
to  have  been  studiously  contrived  to  shock  a  prisoner's  habits, 
insulate  him  from  the  human  race,  and  deliver  him  up  to  squalid 
wretchedness  and  distracting  thoughts.  The  manifest  purpose  of 
this  was,  to  break  his  courage,  and  thereby  induce  him  to  make 
such  confessions  as  would  answer  the  ends  of  his  persecutors. 
It  was  not  till  after  he  had  undergone  a  second  examination  that 
he  was  allowed  to  be  shaved ;  and  months  often  elapsed  before 
this  favour  was  granted.  Neither  was  he  permitted  to  have 
books,  pens,  or  paper,  nor  to  attend  mass,  nor  to  walk  in  the  court. 
He  could  not  even  write  to  the  lieutenant  of  police,  through  whom 
alone  any  indulgence  was  to  be  obtained.  The  sight  of  the  turn- 
key, for  a  few  moments,  thrice  a  day,  was  the  sole  link  which 
connected  him  with  his  fellow-beings. 

Every  stratagem  which  cunning  could  devise  was  put  in  prac- 
tice to  entrap  a  prisoner  into  an  avowal  of  guilt,  the  betraying  of 
his  suspected  friends,  or,  failing  these,  into  such  contradictions  as 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  35 

might  give  a  colour  for  refusing  to  believe  him  innocent.  Threats, 
too,  were  not  spared,  nor  even  flatteries  and  promises.  At  one 
moment,  papers  were  shown  to  him,  but  not  put  into  his  hands, 
which  his  examiners  affirmed  to  contain  decisive  proof  of  his 
criminality;  at  another,  he  was  told  that  his  accomplices  had 
divulged  the  whole,  and  that  his  obstinate  silence  would  subject 
him  to  be  tried  by  a  special  commission,  while,  on  the  contrary, 
if  he  would  speak  out  frankly  he  should  be  speedily  liberated. 
He  who  was  seduced  by  this  artifice  was  sure  to  repent  of  his 
folly.  When  the  irrevocable  words  had  passed  his  lips,  he  was 
informed  that  the  power  of  his  deluders  did  not  extend  to  setting 
him  free,  but  that  they  would  exert  all  their  influence,  and  hoped 
to  succeed.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  there  was  not  a 
syllable  of  truth  in  their  assurances,  and  that  he  who  had  confided 
in  them  was  treated  with  increased  severity.  It  was  not  only  in 
official  examinations  that  the  captive  was  exposed  to  be  thus  cir- 
cumstanced; the  same  system  was  pursued  throughout.  There 
was  no  one  who  approached  him  to  whom  he  could  venture  to 
breathe  a  whisper  of  complaint.  If  he  was  visited  by  the  lieu- 
tenant of  police,  the  sole  aim  of  the  lieutenant  was  to  draw  forth 
something  which  might  be  turned  against  him.  If  he  was  allowed 
to  be  attended  by  one  of  the  invalids,  the  attendant  treasured  up 
for  his  masters  every  word  that  was  dropped.  Sometimes,  appa- 
rently as  a  matter  of  grace  and  kindness,  a  companion,  said  to  be 
a  fellow-sufferer,  was  given  to  him ;  the  companion  was  a  police 
spy,  who  was  withdrawn  when  he  had  wormed  out  the  secret,  or 
had  become  convinced  that  it  was  unattainable.  To  listen  to  that 
which  seemed  the  voice  of  pity  was  dangerous ;  for  the  turnkeys 
and  other  officers,  enjoined  though  they  were  to  be  mute  on  other 
occasions,  had  their  tongues  let  loose  for  fraudulent  ends,  and 
were  taught  to  lure  the  prisoners  into  indiscreet  language,  by 
feigned  expressions  of  sympathy. 

In  general,  a  silence  was  maintained  by  the  officers  and  attend- 
ants, which  might  rival  that  of  the  monks  of  La  Trappe.  "When 
a  corporal  or  any  other  (said  the  instructions),  is  ordered  to  attend 
a  prisoner,  who  may  have  permission  to  walk  in  the  garden,  or  on 
the  towers,  it  is  expressly  forbidden  that  he  speak  to  him.  He  is 
to  observe  his  actions,  to  take  care  that  he  make  no  signs  to  any 
one  without,  and  to  bring  him  back  at  the  hour  fixed,  delivering 
him  over  to  an  officer,  or  one  of  the  turnkeys,  as  may  have  been 
ordered." — "The  sentinel  in  the  court  must  constantly  keep  in 
view  the  prisoners  who  may  be  permitted  to  walk  there  :  he  must 
be  attentive  to  observe  if  they  drop  any  paper,  letter,  note,  or  anyt 


36  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

thing  else :  he  must  prevent  them  from  writing  on  the  walls,  and 
render  an  exact  account  of  everything  he  may  have  remarked 
whilst  on  duty.  All  persons  whatsoever,  except  the  officers  of 
the  staff  and  turnkeys,  are  forbidden  ever  to  speak  to  any  prisoner, 
or  even  to  answer  him,  under  any  pretence  whatever."  As  it 
was  supposed  that  strangers  might  chance  to  feel  pity  for  the  vic- 
tims of  despotism,  and  of  course  be  disposed  to  express  it,  or  to 
serve  them,  care  was  taken  to  guard  against  that  evil.  It  was 
therefore  ordered  that,  "if  workmen  should  be  employed  in  the 
castle,  as  many  sentinels  must  be  put  over  them  as  may  be  thought 
necessary,  who  must  observe  them  with  the  same  attention  as 
they  do  the  prisoners,  in  order  that  they  may  not  approach  these, 
nor  do  anything  that  may  be  contrary  to  the  rules  of  the  place." 

Visits  from  without  seem  never  to  have  been  permitted  except 
in  minor  cases  of  offence.  •  No  permission  was  granted  till  after 
the  final  examination,  and  not  then  till  repeated  requests  had  been 
made,  and  powerful  interest  employed.  Even  when  the  favour 
was  obtained,  its  value  was  seriously  diminished  by  the  restrictions 
with  which  it  was  clogged.  The  prisoner  was  obliged  to  receive 
his  relative  or  friend  in  the  council  chamber,  on  one  side  of  which 
he  was  placed,  and  his  visitor  on  the  other,  with  two  officers  be- 
tween them;  nor  were  the  parties  suffered  to  converse  on  any 
subject  which  had  the  most  remote  reference  to  the  cause  or  cir- 
cumstances of  the  prisoner's  confinement.  The  same  system  was 
followed  when  one  captive  had  an  interview  with  another.  There 
was  but  one  case  in  which  incarcerated  individuals  could  have  a 
free  interchange  of  thoughts;  it  was  when  the  fullness  of  the  pri- 
son, or  the  humanity  of  the  governor,  caused  two  of  them  to  be 
located  in  the  same  chamber. 

Intercourse  by  letters  was  equally  shackled,  though  there  was 
an  insulting  affectation  of  a  readiness  to  facilitate  correspondence. 
It  has,  indeed,  been  conjectured,  that  "  this  apparent  indulgence 
to  prisoners  was  one  of  the  many  artifices  employed  to  discover 
their  secrets,  and  the  persons  with  whom  they  were  connected;" 
and  this  supposition  may  not  be  far  from  the  truth.  There  can 
be  no  doubt,  that  of  the  letters  written  by  captives,  few  arrived  at 
their  destination.  We  have  seen,  in  the  narrative  of  a  prisoner, 
that  the  whole  of  those  which  he  wrote  were  suppressed.  M. 
Linguet  tells  us,  that  knowing  the  king's  brothers,  Monsieur  and 
the  Count  d'Artois  (afterwards  Louis  XVIII  and  Charles  X)  to 
be  favourable  to  him,  he  wrote  to  them  to  solicit  their  intercession. 
"  The  letters,"  says  he,  «» were  sealed.  The  lieutenant  of  police, 
some  time  after,  told  me  he  had  read  but  not  transmitted  them; 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  37 

that  he  had  not  been  allowed.  When  I  observed  to  him  that, 
since  he  knew  the  contents,  he  might  make  them  known  to  the 
generous  prinees  from  whom  he  had  detained  them,  he  replied, 
that  he  had  no  access  to  such  high  personages.  Thus  the  man, 
who  was  prohibited  from  approaching  such  high  personages,  had 
the  privilege  of  breaking  open  and  suppressing  their  letters,  of 
rendering  fruitless  their  good  intentions  and  those  of  the  monarch, 
and,  in  short,  of  raising  round  me  ramparts  more  impenetrable 
than  all  the  magic  castles  with  which  imagination  has  ever  peopled 
our  romances." 

Profound,  secrecy  and  mystery  were  among  the  most  prominent 
features  in  the  management  of  the  Bastile.  He  who  was  fortunate 
enough  to  emerge  from  this  den  of  Cacus,  was  previously  com- 
pelled to  swear  that  he  would  never  reveal  whatever  he  had  seen 
or  heard  during  his  abode  in  it.  He  who  was  retained,  to  waste 
away  life  within  its  dreary  limits,  was  sedulously  shut  out  from 
all  knowledge  of  what  was  passing  in  the  world.  The  malignant 
enemy,  by  whom  he  had  been  deprived  of  freedom,  might  be  gone 
to  his  last  account,  but  to  him  he  still  lived  and  tyrannized,  for  no 
whisper  of  his  departure  was  suffered  to  reach  him.  When  the 
fact  of  a  person  being  in  the  Bastile  was  not  so  notorious  as  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  denying  it,  his  being  there  was  unblush- 
ingly  denied.  When  inquiry  was  made,  the  officers,  the  governor, 
the  minister  himself,  would  not  scruple  to  affirm,  and  that,  too,  in 
the  most  solemn  manner,  that  they  knew  nothing  of  any  such 
individual.  Thus  were  his  friends  discouraged,  and  led  to  slacken 
in  their  exertions  for  his  relief,  or  wholly  to  discontinue  them.  If, 
however,  they  discovered  the  falsehood,  and  persisted  in  their 
efforts,  there  was  still  another  resource  for  defeating  them  ;  slander 
was  resorted  to ;  the  worst  crimes  were  attributed  to  him ;  and  he 
was  held  up  as  an  abandoned  miscreant,  whom  it  was  a  disgrace 
to  patronize,  and  mercy  to  confine.  At  last,  weariness,  disgust, 
or  death,  robbed  him  of  all  who  had  loved  or  pitied  him,  and,  even 
though  his  original  persecutor  had  ceased  to  exist,  the  victim  was 
left  to  perish  forgotten  in  his  dungeon. 

There  was  one  object,  besides  the  wish  to  elicit  imprudent 
speeches  or  confessions,  which  had  power  to  open  the  lips  of  the 
gaolers;  that  object  was  the  desire  of  tormenting,  of  making  the 
prisoner  feel  how  completely  he  was  insulated  from  mankind,  no 
less  by  its  own  baseness  than  by  his  prison  walls.  u  I  was  daily 
told  with  a  laugh,"  says  M.  Linguet,  «*  that  I  ought  not  to  trouble 
myself  any  longer  about  what  the  world  was  doing,  because  I  was 
believed  to  be  dead;  the  joke  was  carried  so  far,  as  to  relate  to  me 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


circumstances  which  insane  rage  or  horrible  levity  added  to  my 
pretended  exit.  I  was  assured,  also,  that  I  had  nothing  to  hope 
from  the  warmth  and  fidelity  of  my  friends ;  not  so  much  because, 
like  others,  they  were  deceived  with  respect  to  my  existence,  as 
because  they  had  become  treacherous.  This  double  imposture 
had  for  its  purpose,  not  merely  to  torture  me,  but  at  once  to  inspire 
me  with  a  boundless  reliance  on  the  only  traitor  whom  I  had  rea- 
son to  fear,  and  who  was  perpetually  represented  as  being  my 
only  true  friend,  and  to  discover,  from  the  manner  in  which  I  was 
affected  by  these  tidings,  whether  I  had  really  any  secrets  which 
could  lay  me  open  to  a  betrayer." 

Though  the  captive  was  not  allowed  to  live  with  even  a  shadow 
of  comfort,  or  to  hasten  his  own  end,  a  wide  opening  was  left  for 
death  to  accomplish  his  deliverance  in  one  of  the  regular  modes. 
From  the  evening  meal  to  that  of  the  morning,  he  was  hermeti- 
cally sealed  up  by  massy,  iron-lined  double  doors  ;  in  all  that  time 
no  human  being  approached  him.  The  turnkey  slept  in  a  distant 
chamber,  where  neither  voice  nor  the  sound  of  knocking  could 
reach  him.  Bells  seem  to  have  been  thought  too  great  a  luxury 
for  the  place.  If  illness  suddenly  came,  there  was  no  resource  for 
the  sufferer,  but  to  call  to  the  nearest  sentinel,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  broad  moat.  If  his  voice  were  too  weak,  if  his  strength 
failed  to  carry  him  to  the  window,  or  if  the  wind  drowned  his 
cries,  he  must  remain  unaided.  If  his  disorder  were  apoplectic, 
or  he  broke  a  blood-vessel,  it  is  manifest  that  his  fate  was  sealed. 
But,  supposing  him  to  be  heard,  prompt  assistance  was  by  no 
means  to  be  expected.  The  sentinels  gave  the  alarm  to  each 
other,  till  it  reached  the  guard-house ;  the  turnkey  was  then  to  be 
called,  who,  on  his  part,  had  to  rouse  the  servant  of  the  king's 
lieutenant,  that  he  might  awake  his  master,  and  procure  from  him 
the  keys.  Two  hours  were  thus  spent  before  the  surgeon  was 
drawn  from  his  bed,  where,  in  truth,  he  might  as  well  have  con- 
tinued, since,  interdicted  as  he  was  from  prescribing  by  himself, 
he  could  only  make  a  report  to  the  governor,  and  promise  that  the 
physician,  who  resided  three  miles  off,  and  was  overloaded  with 
practice,  should  be  sent  to  on  the  morrow. 

If  the  disease  was  not  immediately  dangerous,  some  medicine 
was  brought,  and  the  sick  man  must  help  himself  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  be  thankful  if  his  malady  were  not  thought  to  be  simu- 
lated. "  But  when  he  was  reduced  to  extremity,  when  he  was 
so  far  gone  that  he  could  not  rise  from  the  worm-eaten  couch  on 
which  he  lay,  a  nurse  was  given  to  him.  And  who  was  this 
nurse  ?  a  stupid,  coarse,  brutal  invalid  soldier,  incapable  of  atten- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

tions,  little  assiduities,  everything  which  is  indispensable  for  a 
sick  person.  But  a  still  worse  thing  is,  that  when  this  soldier  is 
once  fastened  on  you,  he  can  never  quit  you;  he  himself  becomes 
a  prisoner.  It  is  therefore  necessary  to  begin  by  purchasing  his 
consent,  and  prevailing  on  him  to  be  shut  up  with  you  as  long  as 
your  captivity  lasts ;  and,  if  you  recover,  you  must  make  up  your 
mind  to  bear  the  bad  temper,  the  discontent,  the  reproaches,  the 
ennui,  of  this  companion,  who  takes  ample  vengeance  upon  your 
health  for  the  seeming  services  which  he  has  lent  to  your  sick- 
ness." 

There  was  yet  another  stab  to  be  inflicted  on  those  who  were 
sinking  into  the  grave,  and  by  this  the  living  could  be  wounded 
at  the  same  time.  To  regulate  the  manner  in  which,  after  his 
death,  his  property  shall  be  distributed,  and,  by  so  doing,  to  save 
a  wife  and  offspring  from  the  perplexity,  endless  trouble,  expense, 
and  perhaps  ruin,  which  may  arise  out  of  a  disputed  succession, 
or  the  want  of  needful  formalities,  is  a  duty  which  every  rational 
being  will  be  anxious  to  perform.  That  the  person  is  a  captive, 
only  renders  more  necessary  the  performance  of  the  duty.  But 
not  so  thought  the  myrmidons  of  the  Bastile.  It  is  on  record  that 
a  prisoner,  who  was  stretched  for  two  months  on  a  bed  of  sickness, 
expecting  that  each  hour  would  be  his  last,  repeatedly  and  vainly 
implored  a  French  minister  of  state  to  grant  him  the  customary 
legal  aid  for  executing  his  will ;  his  prayer  was  sternly  refused, 
though  there  was  a  lawyer,  who  belonged  to  the  prison  establish- 
ment. That  this  was  a  solitary  instance,  it  would  be  folly  to 
imagine. 

It  was  not  of  unfrequent  occurrence  in  the  Bastile,  for  the 
bodily  faculties  of  a  prisoner  to  survive  his  mental.  Shut  out 
from  the  beautiful  forms  of  nature,  the  treasures  of  intellect,  and 
the  delights  of  social  converse,  from  all  that  can  animate  or  con- 
sole ;  racked  by  a  thousand  remembrances,  conjectures,  passions, 
and  fears ;  brooding  in  deep  seclusion  and  silence  over  the  past 
and  the  present,  and  vainly  struggling  to  penetrate  the  darkness 
of  the  future;  his  mind  at  length  gave  way, and  idiotism  or  mad- 
ness ensued.  Yet  even  that  must  be  deemed  a  blessing,  if  it 
brought  with  it  oblivion  of  his  fate. 

But  the  long  and  unbroken  series  of  woes  is  at  last  ended; 
death  has  rent  asunder  the  fetters  of  the  captive,  and  he  is 
"  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at 
rest."  Is  there  yet  a  way  left,  by  which  his  ingenious  tormentors 
can  make  their  vengeance  reach  beyond  the  grave,  by  which  they 
can,  in  some  measure,  entail  upon  his  kindred  a  share  of  suffering? 


40  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

There  is.  How  was  this  important  purpose  effected  in  the  Bas- 
tile  ?  As  soon  as  the  breath  was  out  of  the  body,  a  notice  was 
sent  to  the  minister  of  the  home  department  and  the  lieutenant- 
general  of  police.  The  king's  commissary  then  visited  the  pri- 
son, to  minute  down  the  circumstances.  This  being  done,  orders 
were  issued  to  inter  the  body.  In  the  gloom  of  evening  it  was 
conveyed  to  the  burying-ground  of  St.  Paul's ;  two  persons 
belonging  to  the  Bastile  attended  it  to  sign  the  parish  register ; 
and  the  name  under  which  the  deceased  was  entered,  and  the 
description  of  the  rank  which  he  held,  were  fictitious,  that  all 
trace  of  him  might  be  obliterated.  Another  register,  containing 
his  real  name  and  station,  was,  in  truth,  kept  at  the  Bastile  ;  but 
it  was  almost  inaccessible,  a  sight  of  it,  for  the  purpose  of  making 
an  extract,  being  never  allowed,  without  a  strict  inquiry  into  the 
reason  why  the  application  was  made.  His  family  and  friends, 
meanwhile,  remained  in  profound  ignorance  of  his  having  been 
released  from  his  troubles.  No  mourning  mother,  wife,  or  child, 
followed  his  remains  to  their  last  abode ;  and  even  the  poor  conso- 
lation was  denied  them  of  knowing  the  spot  where  he  reposed, 
that  they  might  water  it  with  their  tears.  Thus,  in  death,  as  in 
life,  oppression  and  malice  triumphantly  asserted  their  absolute 
dominion  over  the  captives  of  the  Bastile. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Reign  of  John  II. — Stephen  Marcel,  Provost  of  the  Merchants. — Reign  of 
Charles  V. — Hugh  Aubriot. — Reign  of  Charles  VI. — Noviant. — La  Riviere. — 
Peter  des  Essarts. — John  de  Montaigu. — Contests  of  the  factions  at  Paris. — 
The  Count  of  Armagnac. — The  Burgundians  obtain  possession  of  Paris. — 
Massacre  of  the  Armagnacs. — Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. — Reign 
of  Charles  VII.— Paris  in  the  hands  of  the  English. — Villiers  de  1'Isle  Adam. — 
The  English  expelled  from  Paris. — Reign  of  Louis  XI. — Anthony  de  Chabannes. 
— The  Count  de  Melun. — Cardinal  de  Balue. — William  d'Haraucour. — Charles 
d'Armagnac. — Louis  de  Luxembourg. — The  Duke  of  Nemours  and  his  children. 

A  MIND  tinctured  with  superstition,  even  though  it  were  not  of 
the  darkest  hue,  might  be  tempted  to  believe  that  a  fatality  pur- 
sued the  men  by  whom  the  Bastile  was  raised.  It  has  been  seen 
that  the  original  founder  was  the  famous  Stephen  Marcel,  Provost 
of  the  Merchants.  Marcel,  though  his  character  has  uniformly 
been  blackened  by  writers  devoted  to  absolute  monarchy,  seems 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  41 

to  have  been  influenced,  at  least  in  the  greatest  portion  of  his 
career,  by  truly  patriotic  motives.  It  is  not  the  object  which 
he  laboured  to  obtain,  but  some  of  the  means  which  he  employed 
for  its  attainment,  that  merits  censure.  To  confine  the  royal  au- 
thority within  reasonable  bounds,  and  to  give  the  national  repre- 
sentatives their  proper  weight  in  the  scale  of  government,  were 
the  purposes  which  he  sought  to  accomplish.  The  dangerous 
circumstances  in  which  the  country  was  placed,  and  the  heavy 
oppression  under  which  the  people  groaned,  pointed  out  such  a 
reform  as  being  no  less  wise  than  just.  The  time  for  attempting 
it  was  favourable ;  inasmuch  as  the  captivity  of  the  king,  and  the 
presence  of  a  victorious  foreign  army,  would,  it  was  supposed, 
compel  the  dauphin,  Charles,  to  look  to  the  States-General  for  the 
means  of  saving  France  from  still  greater  calamities.  Yet,  so 
strong  was  princely  dislike  to  receiving  aid  from  the  legitimate 
guardians  of  the  public  purse,  that  Charles  preferred  raising  sup- 
plies by  the  fraudulent  and  ruinous  expedient  of  debasing  the 
coin.  In  that  scheme  he  was  fortunately  defeated  by  the  stubborn 
opposition  of  the  Provost. 

The  alliance  formed  by  Marcel  with  Charles,  surnamed  the 
Bad,  King  of  Navarre,  was,  perhaps,  an  impolitic  act ;  not  so 
much  because  the  Navarrese  monarch  deserved  the  epithet  given 
to  him  by  French  historians — for  we  may  doubt  whether  he  was, 
in  reality,  much  more  blameworthy  than  his  namesake,  the  dau- 
phin, on  whom  the  same  historians  have  lavished  their  praise — 
but  because  a  junction  with  a  man  who  was  exceedingly  obnoxious 
to  a  large  party  in  France  was  likely  to  give  rise  to  suspicions 
with  respect  to  his  principles  and  motives.  It  is  probable,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  led  to  it,  by  a  wish  to  have  some  stronger  prop 
to  lean  on  than  the  fluctuating  favour  of  the  populace.  The 
"  varium  et  mutabile  semper,"  by  which  Virgil,  somewhat  harshly, 
characterizes  the  female  sex,  may,  with  less  appearance  of  satire, 
be  applied  to  the  multitude.  This  truth  Marcel  was  doomed  to 
learn  by  experience. 

For  nearly  two  years,  the  Provost,  with  more  or  less  steadiness, 
kept  his  footing  on  the  tottering  eminence  to  which  he  had  risen. 
During  that  time  he  was  actively  engaged  in  securing  the  French 
ijfcpital  from  external  and  internal  foes.  He  fortified  and  enlarged 
its  circuit,  supplied  it  with  arms  and  provisions,  established  a 
guard  of  citizens,  which  was  night  and  day  on  the  watch,  and 
barricaded  the  entrances  of  the  streets  by  ponderous  chains,  which 
were  fastened  to  the  houses ;  these  chains  were  the  first  barricades 
which  were  formed  in  Paris. 


42  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


The  capital  was  undoubtedly  saved  from  pillage  and  devasta- 
tion by  the  provident  care  of  Marcel.  In  spite,  however,  of  his 
exertions,  his  popularity  waned ;  the  minds  of  his  fellow-citizens 
were  poisoned  by  the  arts  and  insinuations  of  the  dauphin's 
friends,  and  irritated  by  his  connection  with  the  King  of  Navarre, 
whose  troops  were  mercilessly  ravaging  all  the  circumjacent 
country.  While  the  Parisians  were  in  this  ferment,  the  dauphin 
promised  a  general  amnesty  to  them,  on  condition  of  their  giving 
up  to  him  the  Provost,  and  twelve  other  persons,  whom  he  should 
select.  Fearing,  probably,  that  this  temptation  would  be  too  great 
for  them  to  resist,  the  Provost,  in  an  evil  hour,  resolved  to  admit 
into  the  city  the  troops  of  the  King  of  Navarre.  It  is  also  said, 
though  there  does  not  appear  to  be  any  proof  of  the  fact,  that  he 
intended  to  make  a  general  massacre  of  the  opposite  party,  and 
transfer  the  crown  of  France  to  Charles  the  Bad.  For  this  we 
have  only  the  word  of  his  enemies. 

It  was  on  the  night  of  the  31st  of  July,  1358,  that  Marcel  de- 
signed to  open  the  gates  of  Paris  to  the  Navarrese  soldiery.  He 
was  too  late.  At  noon,  he  went  to  the  gate  of  the  Bastile  of  St. 
Denis,  and  ordered  the  guard  to  deliver  up  the  keys  to  Joceran  de 
Mascon,  the  King  of  Navarre's  treasurer.  The  guard  refused  to 
comply,  and  a  loud  altercation  arose.  The  noise  brought  to  the 
place  John  Maillard,  the  commandant  of  the  quarter.  Up  to  this 
moment,  Maillard  had  been  the  zealous  friend  of  Marcel,  but  he 
now  resolutely  opposed  the  scheme  of  the  latter.  v  A  violent 
quarrel  ensued  between  them,  which  ended  by  Maillard  spring- 
ing on  horseback,  unfurling  the  banner  of  France,  and  summon- 
ing the  citizens  to  assist  him  in  preventing  the  Provost  from 
betraying  the  city  to  the  English.  The  summons  speedily  brought 
a  throng  around  him.  The  friends  of  the  dauphin,  likewise,  did 
not  let  slip  this  opportunity  of  acting  in  his  behalf.  A  consider- 
able body  of  men  was  collected  by  them,  at  the  head  of  which 
were  placed  two  gentlemen,  named  Pepin  des  Essarts  and  John 
de  Charny. 

From  the  gate  of  St.  Denis,  meanwhile,  Marcel  proceeded  on 
the  same  errand  to  the  other  gates.  He  was  not  more  successful 
than  on  his  first  attempt;  obedience  was  everywhere  refused. 
As  a  last  resource,  he  bent  his  course  to  the  Bastile  of  St.  An- 
thony. Here  again  he  was  foiled.  His  enemies  were  beforehand 
with  him.  The  keys  he  did  by  some  means  obtain,  but  they 
were  useless.  Maillard  had  already  reached  the  scene  of  action, 
with  a  numerous  train  of  followers,  and  he  was  almost  imme- 
diately joined  by  the  partisans  of  the  dauphin.  With  the  keys 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  43 

of  the  Bastile  in  his  hand,  Marcel  began  to  ascend  the  entrance 
ladder,  striving  at  the  same  time  to  keep  off  his  assailants.  A 
terrible  cry  now  burst  forth  of  "  Kill  them  !  kill  them  !  death  to 
the  Provost  of  the  Merchants  and  his  accomplices!"  Alarmed  by 
the  clamour,  he  attempted  to  save  himself  by  flight,  but  he  was 
struck  on  the  head  with  an  axe  by  de  Charny,  and  he  fell  at  the 
foot  of  the  Bastile,  which  he  had  himself  built.  His  body  was 
immediately  pierced  with  innumerable  wounds  by  the  infuriated 
crowd.  Giles  Marcel,  his  nephew,  and  fifty-three  others,  the 
whole  of  the  party  which  had  attended  him,  were  either  slain  on 
the  spot  or  thrown  into  prison.  Three  days  afterwards,  the  dau- 
phin re-entered  Paris,  and  began  to  feed  his  revenge  with  blood. 

By  Hugh  Aubriot  the  Bastile  was  advanced  another  step  to- 
wards its  completion.  Born  at  Dijon,  of  humble  parents,  Aubriot 
gained  the  favour  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  and  of  his  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Anjou,  and  was  appointed  minister  of  finance.  He  was 
also  raised  to  the  dignified  though  troublesome  and  dangerous 
office  of  Provost  of  Paris.  Charles  the  Fifth  had  a  love  of  build- 
ing, and  he  found  in  the  Provost  a  man  who  had  talents  and 
activity  to  carry  his  wishes  into  effect.  Paris  was  indebted  to 
Aubriot  for  numerous  works,  which  conduced  to  its  safety,  orna- 
ment, and  salubrity.  He  strengthened  and  added  to  the  ramparts, 
constructed  sewers,  which  he  was  the  first  to  introduce  into  the 
capital,  formed  quays,  rebuilt  the  Pont  au  Change,  and  built  the 
Pont  St.  Michel.  In  these  labours  he  employed,  at  a  fixed  rate 
of  payment,  all  the  mendicants,  destitute  persons,  and  disorderly 
characters  of  the  city;  thus  compelling  them  to  earn  that  subsist- 
ence which  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  extorting  or  plundering 
from  the  citizens.  The  police  of  the  city  was  greatly  improved 
by  him  in  other  respects.  Among  the  ordinances  which  he 
issued,  for  that  purpose,  was  one  which  revived  that  of  Louis  the 
Ninth,  relative  to  prostitutes.  Paris  was  now  overrun  with  loose 
women ;  the  ordinance  enjoined  them,  under  penalty  of  fine  and 
imprisonment,  to  reside  only  in  certain  places,  which  were  speci- 
fied, to  the  number  of  nine. 

The  strict  performance  of  his  duty  proved  to  be  the  ruin  of 
Aubriot.  Among  the  worst  nuisances  of  the  capital  were  the 
scholars  of  the  University  of  Paris  ;  they  were  addicted,  among 
other  things,  to  drunkenness,  libertinism,  and  robbery,  and  their 
insolence  was  still  more  insufferable  than  their  vices.  Perpetual 
quarrels  and  contests,  in  which  they  were  almost  always  the 
aggressors,  took  place  between  these  votaries  of  learning  and  the 
citizens.  The  main  cause  of  their  excesses  being  thus  pushed 


44  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

beyond  all  bounds,  was  the  complete  impunity  which  they  enjoyed. 
Fonder  of  its  privileges  than  of  morality  and  justice,  the  Univer- 
sity on  all  occasions  strenuously  resisted  the  efforts  of  the  magis- 
trates to  bring  scholars  to  punishment.  In  more  than  one  instance 
it  threw  its  protecting  shield  over  plunderers  and  assassins,  and 
pursued  with  a  deadly  hatred  those  individuals  who  had  dared  to 
enforce  the  laws  against  criminals.  This  crying  abuse  Aubriot 
determined  to  suppress.  In  the  prison  of  the  Little  Chatelet, 
which  was  built  by  him,  he  ordered  two  strong  and  not  over 
comfortable  cells  to  be  constructed,  for  the  reception  of  delinquent 
scholars.  These  he  called  his  clos  Bruneau  and  rue  de  Fouaire; 
the  University  schools  being  situated  in  places  which  were  so 
named.  By  this  stinging  joke,  and  by  the  vigorous  measures  of 
Aubriot,  the  University  was  inexpiably  offended.  Regardless  of 
its  anger,  he,  however,  resolutely  persisted  in  arresting  and  com- 
mitting to  prison  every  student  who  ventured  to  transgress. 

While  Charles  the  Fifth  lived,  Aubriot  remained  safe  ;  but  the 
death  of  his  patron,  and  the  weakness  and  confusion  of  a  minority, 
laid  him  open  to  the  malice  of  his  enemies.  The  University  had 
sworn  to  accomplish  his  ruin,  and  this  oath  it  held  sacred.  In 
his  public  character  he  had  so  deported  himself  as  to  be  intangi- 
ble; and,  therefore,  his  private  life  was  ransacked  to  find  matter 
for  accusation.  It  was  discovered,  or  feigned,  that  he  was  too 
warm  a  lover  of  women,  and,  to  give  a  darker  colour  to  this  fault, 
it  was  added,  that  he  had  an  especial  predilection  for  Jewesses. 
From  this,  by  a  curious  process  of  logic,  it  was  deduced  as  an 
inference,  that  he  was  himself  a  Jew  and  a  heretic ;  his  accusers 
not  perceiving,  or  not  choosing  to  perceive,  that  the  one  of  these 
conditions  excluded  the  other.  Their  reasoning  was  akin  to  that 
which,  in  the  fable,  the  wolf  uses  to  the  lamb.  Unluckily,  too, 
for  the  Provost,  they  resembled  the  wolf  in  other  points ;  they 
had  his  savageness  and  his  ability  to  injure.  The  University  and 
the  clergy  joined  in  a  clamour  against  him,  and  were  supported 
by  the  Duke  of  Berry,  who  was  hostile  to  the  Burgundian  party, 
to  which  Aubriot  belonged. 

Charged  with  impiety  and  heresy,  Aubriot  was  brought  to  trial 
before  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal.  With  such  prosecutors  and  such 
judges,  conviction  was  certain.  To  such  a  pitch  did  the  Univer- 
sity and  the  clergy  carry  their  animosity  against  him,  that  he 
would  have  been  doomed  to  the  flames,  had  not  his  friends  at  court 
powerfully  exerted  their  influence  to  procure  a  milder  sentence. 
But  though  his  life  was  spared,  he  was  not  suffered  to  escape 
without  feeling  how  venomous  are  the  fangs  of  fanatics  and  pe- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  45 

dants.  He  was  condemned  to  public  exposure  and  penance,  in 
presence  of  the  heads  and  scholars  of  the  University, to  ask  pardon 
upon  his  knees,  and,  with  no  other  food  than  bread  and  water,  to 
spend  in  strict  confinement  the  remnant  of  his  days. 

Aubriot  was  conveyed  to  the  Bastile,  to  undergo  the  last  part 
of  his  sentence.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months,  probably  because 
he  was  treated  with  too  much  lenity  in  a  state  prison,  he  was  re- 
moved to  the  bishop's  prison,  called  For-1'Eveque,  where  he  was 
thrown  into  one  of  those  dungeons  which  bore  the  significant 
name  of  oubliettes.  There  he  might  have  languished  long,  or 
perished  quickly,  but  never  have  hoped  for  deliverance,  had  not, 
in  1381,  the  intolerable  oppression  exercised  by  the  government 
given  rise  to  the  insurrection  which,  from  the  circumstance  of  the 
revolters  being  armed  with  leaden  malls,  was  called  the  Maillotin. 
In  want  of  a  leader,  the  insurgents  bethought  them  of  Hugh 
Aubriot;  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that,  as  he  had  suffered  heavy 
wrongs,  they  supposed  he  would  espouse  their  cause  with  heart 
and  soul.  They  accordingly  liberated  him.  Aubriot,  however, 
was  either  too  old,  or  too  prudent,  to  become  the  head  of  a  revolt; 
he  spoke  his  deliverers  fair,  but,  on  the  very  evening  that  he  was 
set  free,  he  crossed  the  Seine,  and  hastened  to  Burgundy,  his 
native  country,  where  he  is  believed  to  have  died  in  the  following 
year. 

While  Charles  the  Sixth  was  labouring  under  his  first  attack  of 
insanity,  the  political  feuds  and  intrigues  which  distracted  his 
court  gave  fresh  inhabitants  to  the  Bastile.  When,  in  1392,  the 
Dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Berry  assumed  the  government,  the 
overthrow  of  Clisson,  the  constable  of  France,  and  prime  minister, 
necessarily  ensued,  and  in  his  fall  was  involved  the  ministry  he 
had  formed.  Three  of  the  ministers,  La  Begue  de  Villaine, 
Noviant,  and  La  Riviere,  were  arrested;  Montaigu,  the  fourth, 
escaped  to  Avignon.  La  Begue,  an  aged  man,  who  had  served 
in  the  field  with  honour  under  several  kings,  was  soon  released  ; 
Noviant  and  La  Riviere  were  reserved  as  scape-goats,  and  were 
shut  up  in  the  Bastile.  Of  Noviant  nothing  important  is  recorded. 
La  Riviere  had  enjoyed,  in  the  highest  degree,  the  confidence  and 
friendship  of  Charles  the  Fifth;  so  much,  indeed,  did  the  monarch 
value  him,  that,  by  his  express  commands,  whenever  his  favourite 
died,  the  royal  mausoleum  of  St.  Denis  was  to  be  the  place  of  in- 
terment. At  the  accession  of  Charles  the  Sixth,  La  Riviere  suf- 
fered a  temporary  eclipse ;  but  he  shone  forth  again  when  the 
young  monarch  assumed  the  reins  of  government. 

Noviant  and  La  Riviere  were  now  in  the  hands  of  their  enemies, 


46  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

and  had  little  to  hope ;  for  they  were  rich  enough  to  excite  a 
hungering  after  their  spoils,  and  had  been  too  long  in  possession 
of  power  not  to  be  loathed  by  their  rivals.  ?  It  is  the  curse  ana?  J4 
the  shame  of  politics,  that  they  render  men  insensible  to,  or,  which?  ^ 
is  still  worse,  incapable  of  acknowledging,  the  merit  really  owned^  £ 
by  those  who  differ  from  them  in  views  and  principles.  Thorough- '?  C 
going  politicians  are  but  too  apt  to  affirm  what  is  false,  or  suppress 
what  is  true,  provided  it  will  injure  their  opponents.  *i  It  follows,^ 
as  a  natural  consequence  of  this  unworthy  feeling,  mat,  though 
the  two  ministers  fully  vindicated  themselves  on  every  article  of 
impeachment,  they  had  but  small  chance  of  escaping.  Their  fate 
was  deemed  so  inevitable,  that  more  than  once  during  the  trial 
the  brute  populace  rushed  to  the  place  of  execution,  lured  by  the 
report  that  the  ministers  were  about  to  be  brought  to  the  scaffold. 
Luckily  for  them,  they  had  a  protector,  stronger  than  their  inno- 
cence. This  was  the  young  and  lovely  princess  Jane,  Countess 
of  Boulogne,  the  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Berry.  Her  marriage  with 
the  duke  had  been  brought  about  by  the  influence  of  La  Riviere, 
and  this  circumstance,  together  with  the  minister's  estimable 
qualities,  had  secured  for  him  her  affection  and  esteem.  Her 
pleadings  softened  her  husband,  and  thus  prevented  a  deadly  sen- 
tence from  being  passed  on  the  fallen  statesmen.  It  is  not  to  be 
supposed,  however,  that  they  were  allowed  to  go  unscathed.  To 
declare  them  guiltless  would  have  been  a  tacit  confession  of  error, 
an  act  which  is  not  to  be  expected  from  weak  and  base  minds ; 
and,  besides,  hatred  could  not  consent  to  let  loose  its  objects  without 
previously  making  them  feel  a  touch  of  its  fangs.  The  ministers, 
therefore,  after  having  been  captives  for  twelve  months,  and  in 
hourly  dread  of  death,  were  only  condemned  to  confiscation  of  their 
property,  and  exile  to  a  distance  from  the  court.  With  respect  to 
the  latter  part  of  the  sentence,  they  might  well  have  exclaimed, 
like  Diogenes,  "and  we  condemn  you  to  remain  at  court!" 
Charles,  on  his  temporary  return  to  sanity,  restored  their  estates, 
but  they  were  not  again  employed.  La  Riviere  died  in  1400,  and 
was  buried  at  St.  Denis. 

There  was  a  moment  when  the  Bastile  seemed  about  to  be  con- 
verted to  its  original  purpose,  that  of  a  fortress  for  the  defence  of 
Paris.  After  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  had,  in  1405,  obtained 
possession  of  the  king,  the  dauphin,  and  the  capital,  preparations 
to  recover  Paris  were  made  by  the  beautiful  but  worthless  Queen 
Isabella,  and  her  paramour,  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  In  consequence 
of  this,  the  Burgundian  prince  placed  garrisons  in  the  Bastile 
and  the  Louvre  ;  and  a  report  having  been  spread,  that  there  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  47 

a  plot  to  carry  off  the  dauphin,  a  chain  was  stretched  across  the 
river,  from  the  Bastile  to  the  opposite  bank,  to  prevent  the  passage 
of  vessels.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that,  to  win  the  good  will  of 
the  Parisians,  the  duke  induced  the  king  to  restore  to  them  the 
barricading  chains,  of  which  they  had  been  deprived  in  1383,  and 
which  had  ever  since  been  kept  in  the  castle  of  Vincennes.  The 
precautions  were  prudent,  but  they  were  made  useless,  by  a  treaty 
between  the  hostile  parties. 

It  has  already  been  observed,  that  the  office  of  Provost  of  Paris 
was  no  less  perilous  than  honourable.  During  the  disturbed  and 
disastrous  reign  of  Charles  the  Sixth,  there  were  as  many  as 
twenty-four  provosts,  and  there  were  few  of  them  who  did  not 
find  their  dignity  a  burthen.  Among  the  most  unfortunate  of  them 
was  Peter  des  Essarts.  He  was  one  of  the  French  nobles  who 
were  sent  to  aid  the  Scotch  in  their  contest  with  the  English  ;  and, 
in  1402,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  latter.  After  he  was  ran- 
somed he  returned  to  France,  and  became  a  zealous  partizan  of 
John  the  Fearless,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  The  duke  amply 
rewarded  him  for  his  services.  He  successively  obtained  for  him 
the  posts  of  Provost  of  Paris,  grand  butler,  grand  falconer,  first 
lay  president  of  the  chamber  of  accounts,  supreme  commissioner 
of  woods  and  waters,  and  superintendent  of  finance,  and  also  the 
governments  of  Cherbourg,  Montargis,  and  Nemours. 

As  provost  of  Paris,  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  arrest  a  man  whose  rise 
had  been  no  less  rapid  than  his  own.  His  task  was  performed 
with  a  thorough  good  will.  Montaigu,  whom  we  have  seen  flying 
to  Avignon  after  the  downfall  of  Clisson,  returned  to  the  French 
capital  when  the  storm  was  blown  over.  There  he  became  more 
than  ever  a  favourite  of  the  king,  who  loaded  him  with  honours, 
promoted  his  relations,  and  procured  for  his  son  the  hand  of  the 
constable  d'Albret's  sister.  Among  the  offices  which  were  lavished 
on  Montaigu,  were  those  of  finance  minister  and  grand  master  of 
the  royal  household.  His  riches  were  soon  increased  to  an  enor- 
mous degree,  and  his  pride  to  a  still  greater.  To  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  he  had  rendered  himself  peculiarly  obnoxious,  by 
thwarting  his  plans,  and  being  a  determined  adherent  of  the 
queen  and  the  house  of  Orleans.  The  Burgundian  affected  to  be 
reconciled  to  him,  but  he  did  not  the  less  resolve  upon  his  destruc- 
tion. To  accomplish  the  ruin  of  Montaigu,  the  duke  instituted 
an  inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  those  who  had  managed  the  finan- 
ces ;  a  species  of  inquiry  which  was  always  applauded  by  the 
tax-burthened  people.  At  the  same  time,  he  likewise  procured 
for  the  Parisians  the  restoration  of  various  privileges,  which  had 


48  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

been  taken  from  them  as  a  punishment  for  the  Maillotin  insurrec- 
tion. Having  thus  fortified  his  popularity,  he  took  advantage  of 
the  king  being  visited  by  one  of  his  fits  of  madness,  to  commence 
operations  against  Montaigu.  The  favourite  had  been  cautioned 
against  his  danger,  and  advised  to  fly  from  it,  but  confiding  in  the 
support  of  the  queen  and  the  Duke  of  Berry,  he  was  deaf  to 
advice.  He  was  arrested  in  the  street  by  des  Essarts,  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Little  Chatelet.  It  strongly  marks  his  insufferable 
pride  and  insolence,  that,  when  he  was  seized  by  the  provost,  he 
exclaimed,  "Ribald!  how  hast  thou  the  audacity  to  touch  me?" 
This  was  the  arrogance  of  an  upstart,  for  he  was  of  humble  birth. 
He  was  brought  to  trial,  with  little  attention  to  the  forms  or  the 
spirit  of  justice,  and,  after  having  been  tortured,  was  condemned 
to  lose  his  head;  his  property  was  confiscated,  but,  instead  of 
being  appropriated  to  replenish  the  treasury,  it  was  divided  among 
his  enemies.  The  sentence  was  executed  in  the  autumn  of  1409. 

If  ambition  had  not  entirely  banished  prudence,  the  fate  of 
Montaigu  might  have  taught  des  Essarts  to  reflect  on  the  frail 
tenure  by  which,  in  an  age  of  faction,  the  most  conspicuous  parti- 
sans hold  their  fortunes  and  their  lives.  Nor  was  he  without  a 
still  more  impressive  warning.  In  a  moment  of  displeasure,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  said  to  him,  "  Provost  of  Paris,  John  de  Mon- 
taigu was  three-and-twenty  years  in  getting  his  head  cut  off,  but 
verily  you  will  not  be  three  years  about  it :" — ominous  words, 
where  the  prophet  had  the  power  of  bringing  his  prophecy  to 
pass! 

In  1410  the  contending  factions  once  more  resumed  their  arms. 
By  a  rapid  march,  the  Burgundian  prince  made  himself  master  of 
Paris,  which  he  garrisoned  with  eight  thousand  men.  For  the 
support  of  the  troops,  a  heavy  tax  was  imposed  upon  the  citizens. 
Des  Essarts  was  charged  with  the  levying  of  this  tax,  and  he  is 
accused  of  having  swelled  his  own  coffers  with  the  largest  share 
of  the  produce.  By  this  onerous  measure,  the  popularity  of  the 
duke  and  the  provost  was  materially  diminished.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  months,  the  duke  deemed  it  prudent  to  conclude  another 
simular  of  a  treaty;  it  was  called  the  treaty  of  the  Bicetre,  from 
the  place  where  it  was  negotiated,  and  by  one  of  its  articles  he 
consented  that  des  Essarts  should  be  removed  from  the  provost- 
ship  of  Paris. 

It  seems  impossible  for  the  signers  of  such  treaties  to  have  put 
their  hands  to  them  without  being  tempted  to  laugh  in  each  other's 
faces ;  the  compacts  were  notoriously  intended  to  be  broken  on 
the  first  favourable  opportunity.  Accordingly,  but  a  few  months 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

elapsed,  after  the  conclusion  of  the  peace,  before  the  Burgundian 
and  Orleanist  parties  were  again  in  arms,  and  vituperating  each 
other  in  the  most  virulent  language.  Des  Essarts  was  re-esta- 
blished as  provost  of  Paris ;  and  during  the  temporary  ascendency 
of  the  Orleanists,  his  exertions  to  supply  the  city  with  provisions 
gained  for  him,  from  the  citizens,  the  flattering  appellation  of  the 
Father  of  the  People.  When,  however,  the  Parisians  ceased  to 
be  in  dread  of  having  hungry  bellies,  they  ceased  to  applaud  him; 
and  in  the  following  year,  he  became  an  object  of  their  hatred. 

A  sharp  contest  of  a  few  months  was  terminated  by  another 
hollow  truce,  under,  the  name  of  a  peace.  By  this  time  the  Bur- 
gundian prince  appears  to  have  been  converted  into  a  deadly 
enemy  of  des  Essarts.  Three  causes  are  assigned  for  this  change. 
The  provost  is  said  to  have  in  private  charged  him  with  appro- 
priating a  large  sum  of  the  public  money  to  his  own  use ;  to  have 
entered  into  correspondence  with  the  Orleanist  leaders,  and  warned 
them  that  the  duke  designed  to  assassinate  them ;  and  likewise  to 
have  formed,  with  the  concurrence  of  the  dauphin,  a  plan  for 
rescuing  that  prince  and  the  king  from  the  state  of  tutelage  in 
which  they  were  kept  by  the  Burgundian  ruler.  It  is  highly 
probable  that,  disgusted  by  the  duke  having  abandoned  him  in 
the  treaty  of  the  Bicetre,  he  had  really  gone  over  to  the  Orleanist 
faction.  Any  one  of  these  causes  was  sufficient  to  make  his 
former  patron  resolve  upon  his  ruin.  There  was  also  another 
circumstance  which  wore  a  threatening  aspect  for  des  Essarts. 
The  States-general  were  now  sitting  at  Paris,  and  in  that  assembly 
clamours  began  to  be  heard  against  financial  depredators,  amongst 
whom  the  multitude,  so  lately  his  adulators,  did  not  hesitate  to 
class  him.  To  elude  the  storm,  which  he  saw  approaching  from 
more  than  one  quarter,  he  resigned  his  office  of  finance  minister, 
in  which  he  had  succeeded  Montaigu ;  but  he  did  not  forget  to 
secure  an  adequate  compensation  for  the  sacrifice  which  he  made. 
He  then  retired  to  his  government  of  Cherbourg. 

The  Burgundian  was  at  this  period  in  apparent  amity  with  the 
dauphin ;  nor  had  he,  as  yet,  openly  manifested  his  animosity 
against  the  provost.  The  dauphin  was,  however,  at  heart  hostile 
to  him,  and  impatient  of  his  yoke.  It  was,  no  doubt,  with  a  view 
to  having  a  firm  hold  of  Paris,  that  he  resolved  to  become  master 
of  the  Bastile ;  but  to  the  duke  the  reason  which  he  assigned  was, 
the  mutinous  disposition  of  the  people,  which  it  was  necessary  to 
have  the  means  of  repressing.  Imagining  that  the  provost  was 
still  trusted  by  the  duke,  he  proposed  to  confide  to  him  the  task 
of  seizing  upon  the  Bastile.  The  clear-sighted  Burgundian  at 


50  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

once  saw  through  the  scheme,  but  he  gave  a  willing  consent  to 
its  execution ;  for  it  would  enable  him  to  accomplish  two  objects, 
the  getting  of  des  Essarts  into  his  hands,  and  the  gaining  a  com- 
plete triumph  over  the  dauphin  himself.  Des  Essarts  was  con- 
sequently summoned  from  Cherbourg;  he  accepted  the  commis- 
sion ;  and  he  managed  so  well,  that  he  secured  the  Bastile,  with- 
out the  least  opposition. 

The  provost  was  scarcely  in  possession  of  the  fortress  before 
the  scene  changed.  The  Burgundian  prince  had  skillfully  laid  a 
train,  and  a  violent  explosion  suddenly  took  place.  A  rumour 
was  spread  throughout  Paris,  that  the  Orleanists,  or  Armagnacs, 
as  they  now  began  to  be  called,  intended  to  carry  off  the  dauphin 
with  his  own  consent,  and  that  the  provost  was  at  the  head  of  the 
plot.  A  furious  multitude,  the  leaders  of  which  were  two  of  the 
duke's  attendants,  immediately  hurried  to  invest  the  Bastile  on  all 
sides.  It  swelled  every  moment,  till  it  consisted  of  not  fewer  than 
twenty  thousand  armed  men,  all  clamorous  for  the  blood  of  des 
Essarts,  and  determined  to  storm  the  castle,  in  order  to  satisfy 
their  rage.  Another  body,  led  by  John  de  Troie,  a  surgeon,  pro- 
ceeded, at  the  same  time,  to  the  dauphin's  palace,  loaded  him 
with  insult,  and  arrested  several  of  his  officers  and  friends,  some 
of  whom  were  murdered  on  their  way  to  prison. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  now  came  forward,  apparently  as  a 
mediator.  The  besiegers  he  induced  to  suspend  their  attack,  by 
promising  that  their  object  should  be  attained  without  force  being 
used.  He  then  tried  his  eloquence  on  des  Essarts.  In  the  first 
interview  he  failed,  in  the  second  he  succeeded.  By  dint  of  re- 
presenting to  him  that  it  was  impossible  to  restrain  the  people, 
and  that,  if  they  effected  their  entrance,  which  they  certainly 
would,  the  provost  would  be  torn  in  pieces,  he  shook  his  resolu- 
tion of  defending  himself;  and,  by  pledging  his  honour  that  no 
harm  should  befall  him,  he  finally  prevailed  on  him  to  surrender. 

Des  Essarts  would  have  done  more  wisely  to  brave  death  from 
the  sanguinary  crowd,  than  to  rely  on  the  honour  of  an  acknow- 
ledged assassin.  Ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  saving  him  from 
the  violence  of  his  enemies,  he  was  led  to  the  prison  of  the 
Chatelet,  where  he  seems  to  have  thought  that  all  danger  was  at 
an  end.  He  was  speedily  undeceived,  by  his  being  brought  to 
trial.  In  addition  to  various  crimes  charged  against  him  in  his 
official  capacity,  he  was  accused  of  having  caused  the  renewal 
of  the  war  between  the  princes  after  the  treaty  of  Chartres,  and 
of  having  plotted  to  carry  off  from  Paris  the  king,  the  queen,  and 
the  dauphin.  He  was,  of  course,  found  guilty,  and  was  con- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  51 

demned  to  lose  his  head,  and  to  have  his  remains  suspended  from 
the  gibbet  of  Montfaucon.  Four  years  had  not  elapsed  since  the 
convicted  Montaigu  was  conveyed  by  him  to  the  same  spot.  The 
sentence  passed  on  des  Essarts  was  executed  on  the  first  of  July, 
1413.  He  went  to  the  scaffold  with  great  courage;  a  circum- 
stance which  his  enemies  attributed  to  his  having  flattered  himself 
that  the  people  would  rise  and  rescue  him.  If  he  entertained  any 
such  visionary  hopes,  his  long  experience  of  the  people  must  have 
been  entirely  lost  upon  him. 

The  changes  in  the  fortune  of  the  two  factions  which  desolated 
France  succeeded  each  other  with  an  almost  ludicrous  rapidity ; 
the  party  which  was  triumphant  on  one  day  was  prostrate  on  the 
morrow.  We  have  just  seen  the  dauphin  humbled  by  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy ;  yet  the  same  year  did  not  pass  away  before  the 
dauphin  and  the  Armagnacs  gained  the  upper  hand,  and  the 
duke  found  it  prudent  to  retire  to  his  own  dominions.  That  he 
might  keep  a  firm  hold  of  the  capital,  the  dauphin  gave  the  com- 
mand of  the  Bastile  to  his  uncle,  Prince  Louis  of  Bavaria,  ap- 
pointed the  Duke  of  Berry  governor  of  Paris,  gave  the  provost- 
ship  to  Tanneguy  de  Chatel,  removed  to  the  Bastile  the  chains 
used  for  barricading  the  streets,  and  issued  orders  for  the  citizens 
to  deliver  up  all  kinds  of  arms. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  appealed  to  the  sword,  but  without 
success,  and  the  treaty  of  Arras,  which  was  the  result  of  his 
failure,  relieved  France  for  a  while  from  his  incursions  and  his 
intrigues.  It  was  not  till  nearly  two  years  afterwards,  when  the 
battle  of  Agincourt  had  given  a  rude  shock  to  the  French  throne, 
that  he  re-appeared  upon  the  scene.  Under  his  auspices,  the 
Burgundian  faction  at  Paris  formed  a  conspiracy  for  a  general 
massacre  of  the  Armagnacs,  in  which  the  king  himself  was  not 
to  be  spared,  should  he  venture  to  resist.  It  was  detected  at  the 
critical  moment,  and  the  Armagnacs  avenged  themselves  by  mur- 
ders, proscriptions,  and  excessive  taxes,  which  alienated  many  of 
their  friends,  without  crushing  their  enemies. 

The  death  of  the  dauphin  Louis,  speedily  followed  by  that  of 
his  brother  and  successor,  John,  gave  the  dignity  of  dauphin  to 
Charles,  the  youngest  son  of  the  king.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy 
had  hoped  to  exercise  an  influence  over  John,  but  he  had  only 
hostility  to  expect  from  Charles,  who,  as  far  as  a  boy  of  fifteen 
could  be  anything,  was  a  partisan  of  the  Armagnacs.  By  war 
alone  could  anything  be  gained,  and  he  therefore  prepared  to 
wage  it.  The  gross  impolicy  of  the  opposite  party  gave  him 
manifold  advantages.  While  the  Count  of  Armagnac,  the  con- 


52  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


stable,  who  was  the  head  of  the  reigning  faction,  goaded  the  peo- 
ple by  forced  loans,  enormous  imposts,  and  severities  against  all 
whom  he  suspected,  he  and  the  dauphin  contrived  also  to  exaspe- 
rate the  queen,  by  seizing  her  treasures,  casting,  perhaps  not 
undeservedly,  a  stain  upon  her  character,  and  banishing  her  to 
Tours.  Driven  to  desperation  by  these  injuries  and  insults,  she 
abjured  her  long-cherished  hatred  of  the  duke,  and  wrote  to  him 
for  succour.  He  gladly  listened  to  the  call,  released  her  from 
captivity,  and  escorted  her  to  Chartres,  where,  in  virtue  of  an 
obsolete  ordinance  of  the  king,  she  assumed  the  title  of  regent, 
and  created  a  parliament,  to  counterbalance  that  of  the  capital. 
A  preponderating  weight  was  thus  thrown  into  the  scale  of  the 
Burgundian  prince.  Nor  did  he  neglect  to  strengthen  himself  by 
conciliating  the  people ;  for,  while  the  Count  of  Armagnac  was 
daily  irritating  them  by  his  extortions,  the  duke  held  out  to  them 
a  tempting  lure,  by  proclaiming  that  all  the  towns  which  opened 
their  gates  to  him  should  be  free  from  taxes.  Encouraged  by 
these  circumstances,  his  partisans  in  the  capital  formed  a  plan 
for  admitting  him  into  the  city;  but  it  was  discovered  and  frus- 
trated. 

The  return  of  our  Henry  the  Fifth  to  France  in  1417,  and  the 
progress  which  he  was  making  in  Normandy,  recalled  to  their 
senses  most  of  the  leaders  of  the  factions.  The  necessity  of  union 
being  felt, negotiations  were  opened.  The  queen,  the  dauphin,  and 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  were  willing  to  come  to  terms;  the  princi- 
ple article  agreed  on  was,  that  the  queen  and  the  duke  should  form 
a  part  of  the  royal  council.  But  the  Count  of  Armagnac  would 
hear  of  no  treaty  that  did  not  really  leave  in  his  hands  the  whole 
power  of  the  state ;  and  he  accordingly  strained  every  nerve,  and 
was  even  guilty  of  the  most  revolting  cruelty,  to  render  impossi- 
ble an  accommodation  with  the  Burgundian  leaders.  He  little 
dreamt  how  soon  he  was  to  be  precipitated  from  the  pinnacle  of 
greatness,  and  trampled  in  the  mire  by  the  basest  of  the  base. 

Harassed  and  impoverished  by  tyranny  and  exaction  within  the 
walls,  and  beset  by  foes  beyond  them,  the  Parisians  were  hunger- 
ing for  peace.  They  were  the  more  inveterate  against  Armagnac, 
because  they  were  tantalized  by  the  object  for  which  they  longed 
being  almost  within  their  reach.  Peace  had,  in  fact,  been  con- 
cluded at  Montereau,  and  publicly  announced  in  Paris,  and  the 
count,  seconded  by  de  Marie,  the  chancellor,  was  the  sole  obstacle 
to  its  being  enjoyed.  He  was  inflexible  in  his  resistance.  To 
bring  about  a  rupture  of  the  treaty,  he  sent  troops  to  attack  two 
of  the  Burgundian  posts  ;  seemingly  struck  with  a  judicial  blind- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  53 

ness,  the  forerunner  of  his  fall,  he  pushed  to  an  unbearable  length 
his  arrogance,  extortion,  and  gloomy  precautions;  and  he  is  said 
to  have  even  meditated  a  sweeping  massacre  of  such  of  the  citi- 
zens as  were  hostile  to  him,  and  to  have  ordered  leaden  medals 
to  be  struck  for  distribution  to  his  partisans,  that  the  murderers 
might  distinguish  them  in  the  hour  of  carnage.  If  the  character 
of  the  man,  and  the  spirit  of  those  barbarous  times,  were  not  in 
accordance  with  this  sanguinary  project,  we  might,  perhaps  ima- 
gine him  to  be  unjustly  charged  with  it ;  for,  in  all  ages,  it  has 
been  the  custom  to  blacken  an  overthrown  tyrant,  by  loading  him 
with  imaginary  crimes.  That,  however,  it  was  possible  for  per- 
sons of  the  highest  rank  to  tolerate,  and  probably  to  command, 
the  cold-blooded  slaughter  of  their  foes,  was  but  too  speedily 
proved. 

Terrible  as  the  multitude  is  when  once  moved,  it  is  slow  to  be 
moved.  Mutual  distrust,  and  the  dread  of  failure,  keep  its  com- 
ponent  parts  from  uniting,  till  some  one,  more  daring  than  the 
rest,  or  provoked  into  action  by  flagrant  wrongs,  assumes  the  lead, 
and  gives  to  it  the  principle  of  cohesion.  It  was  a  denial  of 
justice  which  brought  into  play  the  man  who  was  wanting,  to 
convert  into  open  revolt  the  passive  disaffection  of  the  citizens. 
The  servant  of  an  Armagnac  noble  having  grossly  maltreated 
Perinet  le  Clerc,  whose  father,  an  ironmonger,  was  the  quartinier, 
or  magistrate  of  his  ward,  Perinet  applied  to  the  provost  for 
redress.  His  application  was  contemptuously  rejected,  and  he 
swore  to  be  revenged.  In  concert  with  some  of  his  friends,  he 
matured  a  plan  for  admitting  the  Burgundian  troops,  and  he 
opened  a  correspondence  on  the  subject  with  Villiers  de  PIsle 
Adam,  who  commanded  at  Pontoise,  for  the  duke.  The  chance 
of  success  seemed  so  fair,  that  PIsle  Adam  readily  agreed  to  risk 
a  portion  of  his  garrison  in  the  attempt.  The  negotiation  was 
conducted  with  so  much  secrecy  that  not  a  breath  of  it  transpired. 

The  plan  was  carried  into  effect  on  the  night  of  the  28th  of 
May,  1418.  Perinet  was  a  man  of  ready  resources,  equally  dis- 
creet and  resolute,  and  he  omitted  nothing  that  could  tend  to 
secure  a  triumph.  By  virtue  of  his  office,  the  father  of  Perinet 
held  the  keys  of  St.  Germain's  gate,  and  had  the  relieving  of  the 
guard  there.  On  the  appointed  night,  having  first  contrived  to 
place  on  guard  many  of  his  associates,  Perinet  stole  to  his  father's 
bed-side,  and,  undiscovered,  drew  the  keys  from  beneath  his  pil- 
low. L'Isle  Adam  was  waiting  near  the  gate  with  eight  hundred 
men.  At  two  in  the  morning,  it  was  opened  by  Perinet,  who,  as 
soon  as  the  troops  had  entered,  locked  the  gate,  and  threw  the 


54  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

keys  over  the  walls,  that,  retreat  being  impossible,  the  soldiers 
might  be  compelled  to  combat  with  desperate  valour.  The  ad- 
venturers proceeded  in  dead  silence  along  the  streets  till  they 
reached  the  Little  Chatelet,  where  they  were  joined  by  several 
hundred  armed  citizens,  who  had  been  assembled  to  receive  them. 
The  confederates  now  loudly  raised  the  rallying  cry  of  "Peace  ! 
peace!  Burgundy  for  ever!"  and  it  was  soon  as  loudly  echoed 
from  every  side.  From  all  the  streets  crowds  of  citizens  sallied 
forth,  wearing  on  their  dress  the  St.  Andrew's  cross,  which  was 
the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  Burgundian  party.  In  a  very 
short  time,  tens  of  thousands  were  in  arms. 

Scattered  over  a  large  city,  and  taken  by  surprise,  the  Armag- 
nacs  could  make  no  resistance.  Tannegui  du  Chatel,  the  gov- 
ernor of  the  Bastile,  had  barely  time  to  hurry  to  the  dauphin's 
abode,  snatch  him  half  awaked  from  the  couch,  wrap  him  in  the 
bed-clothes,  and  convey  him  for  safety  to  the  Bastile,  whence, 
without  delay,  he  removed  him  to  Melun.  While  he  was  thus 
occupied,  a  party  of  Burgundians  marched  to  the  king's  palace, 
and  compelled  him  to  take  horse,  and  put  himself  at  their  head. 
Other  parties  spread  themselves  over  the  city,  and  slaughtered,  or 
dragged  to  prison,  all  the  Armagnacs  on  whom  they  could  lay 
their  hands.  Nobles,  warriors,  ministers  of  state,  bishops,  abbots, 
magistrates,  and  the  humble  followers  who  had  moved  at  their 
beck,  were  indiscriminately  thrust  into  durance.  The  gaols  were 
speedily  crowded  till  they  could  hold  no  more,  and  it  then  became 
necessary  to  confine  the  captives  in  public  buildings  and  "private 
houses.  The  constable,  in  the  rags  of  a  beggar,  at  first  eluded 
his  pursuers,  and  found  shelter  in  the  dwelling  of  a  poor  mason, 
but  a  threatening  proclamation  against  whoever  should  harbour  an 
Armagnac,  terrified  his  host  into  betraying  him. 

The  Bastile,  and  consequently  the  power  of  entering  Paris,  was 
yet  held  by  Tannegui  du  Chatel.  In  the  hope  of  recovering  the 
capital  before  preparations  could  be  made  for  its  defence,  he  hur- 
ried back  from  Melun,  along  with  other  officers,  among  whom 
was  Barbazan,  who  is  honourably  distinguished  in  the  French 
annals,  as  the  irreproachable  knight,  and  the  restorer  of  the  king- 
dom and  crown  of  France.  At  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  gen- 
darmes, he,  on  the  first  of  June,  made  a  sally  from  the  Bastile, 
and  advanced  up  St.  Anthony's  street,  towards  the  palace,  with 
the  intention  of  making  himself  master  of  the  king's  person.  The 
king,  however,  had  been  removed,  and  Tannegui  was  soon  en- 
countered by  ITsle  Adam,  who  had  gathered  together  some  troops, 
and  was  every  moment  reinforced  by  the  citizens.  A  desperate 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  55 


contest  took  place,  but  the  Armagnac  general  was  finally  com- 
pelled to  retreat,  with  the  loss  of  four  hundred  men.  The  corpses 
of  the  slain  were  ignominiously  thrown  into  the  common  sewer  by 
the  victors.  Leaving  a  small  garrison  in  the  Bastile,  he  retired 
with  the  remainder  of  his  force,  and  distributed  it  among  the 
neighbouring  fortresses  of  Corbeil,  Meaux,  and  Melun.  Two  days 
after  the  departure  of  Tannegui,  the  governor  of  the  Bastile  deemed 
it  prudent  to  capitulate. 

Already  irritated  by  Tannegui's  attempt,  the  partisans  of  the 
Burgundians  were  excited  almost  to  madness  by  a  letter  from  the 
queen,  in  which  she  declared  that  neither  she  nor  the  duke  would 
return  to  Paris,  till  it  was  purged  of  the  Armagnacs.  It  has  been 
truly  remarked,  that  "  such  a  letter  was,  in  reality,  a  decree  of 
death."  That  was  the  construction  put  upon  it  by  the  Burgun- 
dian  faction ;  and,  unrestrained  by  any  religious  or  humane  feel- 
ing, they  promptly  carried  the  sentence  into  effect.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  12th  of  June,  a  report  being  spread  that  the  enemy  were 
attacking  two  of  the  gates,  the  citizens  hastily  assembled  from  every 
quarter.  "  All  issued  from  their  houses,"  says  an  old  writer,  "  like 
swarms  of  bees  from  various  hives.  Malls,  hatchets,  axes,  clubs, 
poles  shod  with  iron  points,  swords,  pikes,  javelins,  and  halberts, 
were  called  into  use  by  the  insurgent  people." 

The  signal  of  carnage  was  given  by  one  Lambert,  who  ha- 
rangued them,  and  proposed  to  massacre  the  captives.  His  san- 
guinary suggestion  was  instantly  adopted  by  the  brutal  crowd,  and 
they  hurried  to  the  numerous  prisons,  uttering  loud  cries  of  "  Kill 
those  dogs!  Kill  those  Armagnac  traitors  !"  A  scene  of  horror 
ensued  at  which  nature  shudders.  Some  of  the  victims  were  flung 
from  the  towers  of  the  buildings  upon  the  pikes  of  the  assassins ; 
some  were  chopped  down  with  hatchets,  some  were  drowned,  and 
others  were  burned  alive  in  their  dungeons ;  their  mangled  remains 
were  exposed  to  every  kind  of  indignity;  and  torrents  of  blood 
flowed  through  the  streets.  From  the  gaols  the  slaughter  was  ex- 
tended to  the  suspected  inhabitants  of  houses,  and  was  followed 
by  pillage.  The  work  of  murder  and  robbery  was  untiringly  con- 
tinued throughout  the  whole  of  the  night,  and  was  recommenced 
in  the  morning,  after  the  labourers  in  it  had  refreshed  themselves 
by  a  short  repast. 

Nineteen  hundred  of  the  Armagnacs  are  said  to  have  fallen  on 
this  terrible  day.  Nor  did  they  alone  suffer,  for  numbers  of  the 
Burgundian  party  fell  beneath  the  weapons  of  their  private  foes, 
who  availed  themselves  of  this  opportunity  to  gratify  their  revenge. 
After  having  for  three  days  been  dragged  through  the  streets  by 


56  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


the  mob,  the  naked  and  disfigured  corpse  of  the  constable  was 
conveyed  out  of  Paris  in  the  scavengers'  cart,  and  thrown  among 
the  filth  and  ordure  of  the  city  laystall.  That  no  proof  of  their 
ferocity  might  be  wanting,  his  murderers  cut  a  portion  of  his  skin 
into  the  form  of  a  scarf,  and  hung  it  round  him  in  ridicule  of  the 
white  scarf  which  was  the  badge  of  his  party. 

A  supplementary  massacre,  of  equal  extent,  and  attended  by 
circumstances  equally  atrocious,  occurred  shortly  after,  in  which 
perished  the  prisoners  from  the  Bastile  and  Vincennes,  and  those 
who  had  been  arrested  since  the  first  slaughter.  On  this  occasion, 
the  captives  in  the  Great  and  Little  Chatelet  strove  to  defend 
themselves,  by  hurling  down  stones  and  tiles  on  their  enemies, 
but  their  resistance  was  soon  overpowered,  and  not  one  of  them 
escaped. 

These  enormities — prefigurations  of  those  which,  nearly  four 
centuries  later,  were  to  be  committed  in  the  same  city — were  suc- 
ceeded by  riotous  rejoicings  for  the  arrival  of  the  queen  and  the 
duke,  and  by  "  one  of  the  finest  religious  processions  that  ever 
was  seen."  But  the  wrath  of  Heaven  did  not  slumber  long. 
"  The  joy  of  Paris,"  says  an  old  annalist,  «*  was  speedily  changed 
into  mourning,  for  three  months  had  not  passed  away  after  this 
carnage,  when  so  cruel  a  pestilence  fell  upon  the  city,  that  it  de- 
stroyed more  than  eighty  thousand  persons  in  three  months.  His- 
tory records,  that  this  Perinet  and  his  companions,  after  having 
squandered  all  that  they  had  gained  by  plunder,  died  miserably, 
not  long  enjoying  the  fruits  of  their  robberies ;  and  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  nobles  and  gentlemen,  who  had  acted  with  the  mur- 
derers, were  carried  off  by  the  pestilence,  except  PIsle  Adam, 
who  was  reserved  to  be  chastised  by  King  Henry  of  England, 
though  it  was  on  another  account,  as  we  shall  relate  in  the  proper 
place.  And  was  it  not  God  who  took  vengeance  for  these  cruel- 
ties?" 

In  a  little  more  than  a  year  from  this  time,  John  the  Fearless, 
himself  an  assassin,  fell  by  an  assassin's  hand,  at  the  conference 
of  Montereau.  His  life  had  been  productive  of  great  evils  to 
France ;  his  death  brought  on  it  still  greater.  The  murder  of 
John  gave  birth  to  that  coalition  between  his  successor  Philip  the 
Good,  Henry  the  Fifth  of  England,  and  Queen  Isabella,  which,  for 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  deluged  the  kingdom  with  blood, 
and  nearly  wrested  the  sceptre  from  the  ancient  line  of  monarchs. 
In  1420,  Paris  was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  English,  and 
for  sixteen  years  they  retained  possession  of  it ;  the  Louvre,  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  57 

Bastile,  and  Vincennes,  were  their  principal  posts  in  the  capital 
and  its  immediate  vicinity. 

The  only  prisoner  whom,  during  their  domination,  the  English 
are  recorded  to  have  confined  in  the  Bastile,  was  the  very  man 
but  for  whose  activity  and  daring  the  capital  would,  perhaps, 
never  have  been  in  their  power.  It  was  1'Isle  Adam.  This  war- 
rior, who  was  born  about  1384,  of  an  ancient  and  noble  family, 
was  taken  by  the  English,  at  Honfleur,  in  1415.  After  he  re- 
covered his  liberty,  he  joined  the  party  of  John  the  Fearless,  and 
was  made  governor  of  Pontoise.  We  have  seen  by  what  means 
he  gained  Paris  for  the  Burgundian  prince.  That  he  was  deeply 
implicated  in  the  massacres  appears  to  be  a  melancholy  truth ; 
and  all  his  talents  and  valour  are  insufficient  to  cleanse  his  repu- 
tation from  that  damnable  spot.  For  his  services  he  was  rewarded 
by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  with  the  rank  of  marshal. 

It  is  not  clear  in  what  manner  1'Isle  Adam  incurred  the  dis- 
pleasure of  our  Henry  the  Fifth,  regent  of  France.  French  writ- 
ers ascribe  the  circumstance  to  the  pride  and  arrogance  of  the 
English  sovereign,  who  required  the  most  abject  homage  from  all 
his  French  courtiers.  L'Isle  Adam,  they  tell  us,  having  one  day 
come  into  the  royal  presence  in  a  plain  gray  dress,  the  monarch 
sternly  asked  him  whether  that  was  a  fit  dress  for  a  marshal. 
"  Dearest  lord,"  said  the  offender,  "  I  had  it  made  to  travel  in  from 
Sens  to  Paris ;"  and,  while  he  spoke,  he  looked  at  the  king. 
"  What !"  exclaimed  Henry,  "  do  you  dare  to  look  a  prince  in  the 
face  ?"  "Most  dread  lord,"  answered  the  marshal,  "  it  is  the  cus- 
tom in  France ;  and  if  any  one  avoids  looking  at  the  person  to 
whom  he  talks,  he  is  considered  as  a  bad  man  and  a  traitor :  there- 
fore, in  God's  name,  do  not  be  offended." — "  Such  is  not  our  cus- 
tom," Henry  sourly  replied,  and  here  the  dialogue  ended.  If  this 
story  be  true,  it  speaks  ill  for  the  policy,  and  worse  for  the  dispo- 
sition, of  the  victor  of  Agincourt. 

A  few  days  after  this  conversation  is  supposed  to  have  occurred, 
L'Isle  Adam  was  committed  to  the  Bastile,  on  the  false  and  absurd 
charge  of  meaning  to  betray  Paris  to  the  dauphin.  About  a  thou- 
sand of  the  citizens  took  up  arms  to  rescue  him,  on  his  way  to 
the  fortress,  but  they  were  put  to  flight  by  the  small  band  of 
English  archers,  which  was  escorting  him  to  prison.  L'Isle 
Adam,  it  is  affirmed,  would  have  passed  from  the  Bastile  to  the 
scaffold,  had  he  not  been  saved  by  the  remonstrances  of  Philip 
the  Good,  and  the  death  of  Henry. 

After  the  decease  of  Henry,  1'Isle  Adam  rejoined  the  Burgun- 
dian standard,  and  took  so  active  and  effective  a  part  in  the  war, 


58  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


that,  when  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  was  established,  he  was 
one  of  the  first  on  whom  it  was  conferred.  In  1437,  he  followed 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  into  Brabant,  and  on  the  22d  of  May  of 
that  year,  he  was  killed  in  a  popular  insurrection  which  took  place 
at  Bruges. 

It  was  not  till  the  5£*2d  of  September,  1429,  that  any  attempt 
was  made  to  disturb  the  English  in  their  occupation  of  Paris. 
Flushed  with  its  recent  successes,  and  hoping  that  the  citizens 
would  rise  upon  the  garrison,  the  army  of  Charles  assaulted  on 
that  day  the  ramparts  of  the  capital,  between  the  gates  of  St.  Ho- 
nore  and  St.  Denis.  The  assault,  led  by  Joan  of  Arc,  continued 
for  four  hours ;  but  the  glorious  heroine  was  severely  wounded 
through  the  thigh,  and  the  assailants  were  compelled  to  retire. 

For  seven  years  after  this  attack,  the  English  kept  their  ground 
in  Paris.  But  the  English  power  in  France  was  now  daily 
crumbling  into  dust.  The  Burgundian,  their  ally  for  several 
years,  was  become  their  active  enemy;  the  Duke  of  Bedford, 
whose  valour  and  skill  so  long  upheld  a  tottering  cause,  had  sunk 
into  the  grave ;  town  after  town,  willingly  or  on  compulsion,  opened 
its  gates  to  Charles ;  succours  arrived  seldom  and  in  scanty  num- 
bers ;  and  frequent  insurrections,  in  Normandy  and  other  quarters, 
compelled  them  to  disseminate  their  troops,  so  that  it  became  im- 
possible for  them  to  take  the  field  with  a  formidable  army.  At 
this  critical  moment,  Paris  had  only  a  feeble  garrison  of  fifteen 
hundred  men ;  a  force  wholly  inadequate  to  defend  the  place,  even 
had  the  citizens  been  far  less  disaffected  than  they  really  were. 
They  were  weary  of  war,  and,  besides,  prudence  dissuaded  them 
from  persisting  to  oppose  a  sovereign  whose  throne  was  evidently 
established  on  a  solid  basis.  Such  being  the  state  of  things, 
Charles  thought  the  time  was  come  to  recover  his  capital.  A 
negotiation  was  secretly  opened  with  the  citizens;  and,  on  con- 
dition of  a  general  amnesty,  they  agreed  to  return  to  their  alle- 
giance. On  the  night  of  the  13th  of  April,  1436,  the  king's  troops 
were  admitted  into  the  city.  Though  he  was  taken  by  surprise, 
Willoughby,the  governor,  a  brave  and  intelligent  officer,  took  such 
measures  as  would  have  baffled  his  assailants,  had  he  received 
any  aid  from  the  Parisians.  But  not  a  hand  was  raised  in  his 
behalf,  and  he  had  no  other  resource  than  a  retreat  to  the  Bastile, 
which  he  effected  in  good  order.  An  honourable  capitulation, 
allowing  him  to  retire,  with  bag  and  baggage,  to  Rouen,  was  offered 
to  Willoughby,  and,  as  he  knew  that  resistance  must  be  unavailing, 
he  wisely  accepted  an  offer  which  he  could  not  hope  would  be 
repeated.  Thus  ended  the  sway  of  the  English  in  Paris. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  59 

During  the  remainder  of  the  reign  of  Charles  VII,  nothing 
more  occurred  which  belongs  to  this  narrative.  Abundant  mate- 
rials are,  however,  supplied  by  the  iron  sway  of  his  son  and  suc- 
cessor, Louis  XI.  Historians,  in  speaking  of  Louis  XI,  have 
charactered  him,  and  with  justice,  as  a  violator  of  all  social  duties, 
as  being  a  "bad  son,  a  bad  husband,  a  bad  father,  a  bad  brother, 
a  bad  kinsman,  a  bad  friend,  a  bad  neighbour,  a  bad  master,  and 
a  most  dangerous  enemy."  That,  on  attaining  supreme  power, 
such  a  man  should  take  heavy  vengeance  for  injuries,  real  or 
supposed,  is  in  the  natural  order  of  things.  Immediately  on  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  Louis  displaced  from  their  offices  all  per- 
sons who  had  rendered  themselves  obnoxious  to  him  ;  and,  in  some 
instances,  his  revenge  was  more  signally  manifested. 

Among  the  most  conspicuous  of  those  who  felt  his  anger  was 
Anthony  de  Chabannes,  Count  of  Dammartin.  Chabannes  had 
played  an  active  part  in  the  long  war  between  Charles  VII  and 
the  English,  and  on  various  occasions  had  done  signal  service. 
Like  many  other  nobles  of  that  period,  he  was,  however,  possessed 
of  far  more  courage  than  honourable  principles.  To  swell  his 
coffers  with  plunder,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  ferocious  banditti  known  by  the  descriptive  name  of  ecor- 
cheurs,  or  flayers,  with  whom  he  ravaged  the  north-eastern  pro- 
vinces of  France,  as  far  as  the  Swiss  frontier,  tie  quitted  them 
in  1439,  to  marry  a  rich  wife,  after  which  he  again  entered  into 
the  king's  service. 

Chabannes,  as  is  often  the  case  with  criminals,  could  more  easily 
commit  crimes  than  bear  to  be  told  of  them.  The  monarch  having 
one  day  laughingly  greeted  him  by  the  title  of  king  of  the  flayers, 
he  angrily  replied,  "I  never  flayed  any  but  jour  enemies;  and  it 
appears  to  me  that  you  have  derived  more  benefit  from  their  skins 
than  I  have."  Not  satisfied  with  this  retort,  he  further  gratified 
his  offended  feelings  by  prompting  the  dauphin  to  become  the 
leader  of  the  malcontents,  in  the  ephemeral  civil  war  which  is 
known  as  the  war 'of  the  Praguerie. 

After  the  Praguerie  was  over,  Chabannes  was  again  received 
into  favour  by  Charles,  and  he  seems  ever  after  to  have  remained 
faithful  to  him.  He  even  disclosed  a  conspiracy  which  the  dau- 
phin had  formed,  to  deprive  the  monarch  of  his  crown  and  liberty. 
The  dauphin,  on  being  brought  face  to  face  with  him,  hardily  denied 
the  fact,  and  gave  him  the  lie.  The  conduct  of  Chabannes,  in 
this  instance,  was  not  undignified.  "I  know,"  said  he,  "the  re- 
spect which  is  due  to  the  son  of  my  master ;  but  the  truth  of  my 
deposition  I  am  ready  to  maintain,  by  arms,  against  all  those  of 


60  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

the  dauphin's  household  who  will  come  forward  to  contradict  it." 
No  one  was  hardy  enough  to  accept  this  challenge. 

It  is  less  creditable  to  Chabannes,  that  he  presided  over  the 
commission  which  was  appointed  to  try,  or  rather  to  find  guilty, 
the  persecuted  Jacques  Co3ur,  and  that  he  contrived  to  obtain,  at 
a  shamefully  inadequate  price,  several  of  Coeur's  estates. 

In  1455,  Chabannes,  by  performing  his  duty  to  his  sovereign, 
gave  fresh  offence  to  the  dauphin.  Irritated  at  last  by  the  political 
intrigues  of  his  son,  and  by  his  having  persisted  for  ten  years  to 
absent  himself  from  the  court,  Charles  determined  to  deprive  him 
of  the  petty  sovereignty  of  Dauphine,  and  to  secure  his  person. 
Chabannes  was  chosen  to  carry  this  determination  into  effect;  and 
he  acted  with  such  vigour,  that,  after  having  prevailed  on  the 
Duke  of  Savoy  to  refuse  the  prince  an  asylum,  he  compelled  him 
to  seek  shelter  in  the  dominions  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. 

Chabannes  was,  consequently,  one  of  the  earliest  victims  on 
the  accession  of  Louis  to  the  throne.  Deprived  of  his  office  of 
grand  master  of  France,  he  took  flight,  but  he  soon  returned,  and 
claimed  a  fair  trial.  The  king  refused  to  admit  the  claim,  and  or- 
dered him  to  quit  the  kingdom;  an  order  which  he  obeyed.  While 
he  was  absent,  his  property  was  confiscated,  and  he  was  sum- 
moned to  appear,  and  answer  the  charges  against  him.  Confiding 
in  his  innocence,  he  complied  with  the  summons ;  but  he  was  found 
guilty  of  high  treason,  and  condemned  to  death.  The  sentence 
was  commuted  to  banishment  by  Louis ;  who,  however,  changed 
his  mind  as  to  the  punishment,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  Bastile. 

In  the  Bastile  Chabannes  remained  for  four  years.  On  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Avar  (the  parties  in  which  called  their  con- 
federacy the  League  of  the  Public  Good),  he  contrived  to  escape  ; 
and,  on  his  way  to  join  the  malcontents,  he  made  himself  master 
of  the  towns  of  St.  Fargeau  and  St.  Maurice.  He  was  one  of 
those  who  benefited  by  the  treaty  of  Conflans,  which  terminated 
this  war.  His  sentence  was  annulled,  and  his  estates  were 
restored  to  him. 

It  is  a  singular  circumstance  that,  with  respect  to  Chabannes, 
Louis  passed  at  once  from  the  extreme  of  hatred  and  suspicion, 
to  that  of  kindness  and  confidence.  He  not  only  restored  his 
estates,  but  he  added  to  their  number.  At  a  later  date,  when  he 
instituted  the  order  of  St.  Michael,  Chabannes  was  one  of  the  first 
whom  he  nominated.  Favours  conferred  by  a  gloomy  and  un- 
principled tyrant  cast  a  doubt  on  the  character  of  the  receiver, 
even  when  it  has  been  hitherto  unstained,  which  was  not  the  case 
with  the  new  knight.  The  nomination  gave  occasion  to  a  severe 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  61 


sarcasm  from  the  Duke  of  Brittany.  Louis  having  sent  to  him 
the  collar  of  the  order,  the  duke  declined  it,  assigning  as  a  reason, 
that  "  he  did  not  choose  to  draw  in  the  same  collar  with  Cha- 
bannes." 

Chabannes  was  not  ungrateful  for  the  benefits  bestowed  on  him. 
When,  strangely  deviating  from  his  accustomed  wariness,  Louis 
involved  himself  in  the  dilemma  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  so 
admirably  described  in  Gluentin  Durward,  Chabannes  did  him  the 
most  essential  and  opportune  service,  and  received  his  warmest 
thanks  for  it.  He  was  afterwards  employed  in  various  important 
expeditions,  all  of  which  he  brought  to  a  successful  issue.  In 
his  old  age,  he  withdrew  from  the  court,  but,  in  1485,  Charles 
VIII  conferred  on  him  the  government  of  the  Isle  of  France  and 
Paris.  Chabannes  did  not  long  enjoy  this  new  honour:  he  died  in 
1488. 

The  war,  caused  by  the  League  of  the  Public  Good,  which 
restored  liberty  and  fortune  to  Chabannes,  deprived  his  enemy, 
the  Count  de  Melun,  not  only  of  both,  but  of  life  also.  When 
we  are  told  that  Melun  was  so  addicted  to  pleasure,  luxury,  and 
sloth,  as  to  have  acquired  the  name  of  the  Sardanapalus  of  his 
times,  we  can  form  no  very  flattering  estimate  of  his  character. 
Yet  he  stood  high  in  the  good  graces  of  Louis  XI,  and  partici- 
pated largely  in  the  spoils  of  Chabannes.  In  his  capacity  of 
governor  of  Paris  and  the  Bastile,  he  was  also  entrusted  with  the 
custody  of  that  nobleman.  It  was  not  till  after  the  battle  of  Mont- 
Iheri  that  Louis  began  to  suspect  him.  The  monarch  had,  indeed, 
some  excuse  for  suspicion.  Melun  had  at  least  been  criminally 
negligent,  in  a  post  which  demanded  the  utmost  vigilance.  He 
had  prevented  a  sally  from  the  city  during  the  battle,  which  might 
have  turned  the  scale  in  the  king's  favour ;  and  he  had  been 
ignorant  of,  or  winked  at,  a  correspondence  carried  on  with  the 
chiefs  of  the  league  by  some  of  the  disaffected  citizens.  These 
indications  of  treachery  were  strengthened  by  two  circumstances ; 
some  of  the  cannon  of  the  Bastile  had  been  spiked,  and  the  gates 
of  the  fortress,  on  the  side  next  the  country,  had  been  left  open 
while  the  besiegers  were  making  an  attack.  The  escape  of  Cha- 
bannes might  also  afford  a  reason  for  doubting  his  keeper's  fidelity. 
Louis,  however,  was  at  this  moment  too  closely  pressed  by  his 
numerous  enemies  to  enter  into  an  investigation  of  the  subject; 
and  he,  therefore,  only  dismissed  the  governor. 

Melun  retired  to  his  estates,  and  imagined  that  the  storm  was 
blown  over.  He  was  mistaken.  As  soon  as  Louis  had  disem- 
barrassed himself,  he  instituted  a  rigid  inquiry  into  the  conduct 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  his  disgraced  favourite.  One  of  the  most  active  in  pushing  it 
on  was  a  man  who  was  indebted  to  the  count  for  his  rise  in  life ; 
the  Cardinal  Balue,  of  whom  further  mention  is  about  to  be  made. 
The  result  of  the  inquiry  was,  a  charge  of  having  maintained  a 
secret  correspondence  with  the  heads  of  the  League,  especially 
with  the  Duke  of  Brittany.  Melun  was  in  consequence  arrested, 
and  conveyed  to  Chateau-Galliard,  in  Normandy,  by  the  provost 
Tristan  1'Hermite,  of  infamous  memory. 

The  trial  was  commenced  without  delay,  and,  as  he  refused  to 
confess  to  any  crime,  he  was  put  to  the  torture.  With  respect  to 
his  correspondence  with  the  chiefs  of  the  League,  he  avowed  it, 
but  pleaded  that  it  had  the  king's  sanction.  It  is  probable  that 
this  was  really  the  case.  Many  motives  might  have  induced  the 
king  to  allow  of  his  officer  corresponding  with  the  enemy.  But 
Louis  had  now  resolved  upon  the  destruction  of  Melun ;  and,  as 
he  never  scrupled  at  falsehood  when  he  had  any  point  to  gain  by 
it,  he  denied  that  he  had  given  the  permission.  By  adding  that 
he  had  long  had  cause  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  prisoner,  he  gave 
a  broad  hint  as  to  what  kind  of  verdict  he  desired.  The  judges, 
as  in  duty  bound,  pronounced  Melun  guilty,  and  he  was  con- 
signed to  the  scaffold.  His  execution  took  place  in  1468.  Of 
his  confiscated  property,  a  considerable  portion  was  bestowed  on 
Chabannes. 

It  is  said,  that  the  executioner  having  only  wounded  him  at  the 
first  stroke,  Melun  raised  his  head  from  the  block,  and  declared, 
that  he  had  not  deserved  death,  but  that,  since  the  king  willed  it, 
he  was  satisfied.  If  this  be  true,  we  must  own  that  tame  submis- 
sion to  the  injustice  of  a  despot  was  never  more  strikingly  dis- 
played. 

Had  Melun  lived  but  a  little  longer,  he  might  have  triumphed 
in  the  downfall  and  punishment  of  his  ungrateful  enemy,  the 
cardinal,  which  took  place  in  1469.  John  Balue,  the  person  in 
question,  born  in  Poitou  in  1421,  was  the  son  of  either  a  miller  or 
a  tailor.  He  had,  perhaps,  as  many  vices,  and  as  few  virtues,  as 
any  person  upon  record.  Ingratitude,  in  particular,  seems  to  have 
been  deeply  rooted  into  the  nature  of  this  unworthy  prelate. 
Towards  the  Bishops  of  Poitiers  and  Angers,  who  had  early  patron- 
ized and  confided  in  him,  and  the  Count  de  Melun,  by  whom  he 
was  introduced  to  the  monarch,  he  acted  with  unparalleled  base- 
ness. His  sovereign  fared  no  better  than  his  other  benefactors. 
Louis  XI  had  rapidly  raised  him  to  the  highest  offices  in  the 
state,  and  had  loaded  him  with  ecclesiastical  preferment,  yet  the 
traitor  betrayed  him. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

While  his  power  lasted,  there  was  no  department  of  the  govern- 
ment with  which  Balue  did  not  interfere.  This  trait  in  the  cha- 
racter of  the  cardinal  called  forth  a  pleasant  sarcasm  from  Cha- 
bannes,  who  could  not  see  with  patience  his  own  province  invaded. 
Balue  having  one  day  reviewed  some  regiments,  Chabannes  gravely 
requested  the  king's  permission  to  visit  the  cardinal's  bishopric  of 
Evreux,  for  the  purpose  of  examining  clerical  candidates,  and 
conferring  ordination  on  them.  "What  do  you  mean?"  said 
Louis.  "Why,  surely,  sire,"  replied  Chabannes,  "I  am  as  fit  to 
ordain  priests,  as  the  Bishop  of  Evreux  is  to  review  an  army." 

It  required,  however,  something  more  than  a  joke  to  shake  the 
confidence  which  the  monarch  placed  in  the  cardinal.  That 
something  more  was  not  slow  in  coming.  Since  the  treaties  of 
Conflans  and  Peronne,  it  had  been  a  main  object  of  Louis  to 
dissociate  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Berry,  from  his  dangerous 
adviser,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy ;  and,  as  one  means  towards  effect- 
ing this,  he  strove  hard  to  induce  him  to  accept,  as  an  appanage, 
the  duchy  of  Guienne  and  the  government  of  Rochelle,  instead 
of  the  provinces  of  Champagne  and  Brie,  which,  by  the  treaty  of 
Peronne,  he  had  been  compelled  to  confirm  to  his  brother.  Louis 
was  undoubtedly  justified  in  wishing  to  accomplish  this  object,  as 
there  was  little  chance  that  peace  would  be  preserved  if  the  Duke 
of  Berry  became  an  immediate  neighbour  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy. Nor  was  the  equivalent  which  the  king  offered  for  Cham- 
pagne and  Brie  an  inadequate  one,  but  much  the  contrary.  On 
this  occasion,  the  king  suffered  the  penalty  to  which  all  deceivers 
are  subjected,  that  of  not  being  trusted.  Could  the  Duke  of  Berry 
have  put  faith  in  his  brother,  he  no  doubt  would  have  accepted 
Guienne. 

It  was  with  no  less  surprise  than  indignation  that  the  king  dis- 
covered, by  intercepted  letters,  that  all  his  efforts,  not  only  in  this 
case  but  in  others,  had  been  counteracted  by  the  man  on  whom 
he  most  relied.  The  cardinal,  and  his  friend  and  agent  William 
d'Haraucourt,  Bishop  of  Verdun,  were  in  close  correspondence 
with  his  enemies.  It  was  to  revenge  himself  for  the  king  having 
failed  in  his  promise  to  procure  him  a  cardinal's  hat,  that  d'Ha- 
raucourt entered  into  the  plot  against  him.  It  would  seem  that 
nothing  short  of  madness  could  have  prompted  the  cardinal  to 
peril  his  liberty  and  fortune,  perhaps  his  life,  by  his  treasonable 
proceeding.  But  here  again  the  king  was  whipped  by  his  own 
vices.  Balue  perceived  or  imagined  that  his  influence  was  de- 
clining; he  was  convinced  that  it  would  wholly  expire  whenever 
his  services  were  no  longer  necessary  to  the  monarch,  Louis  be- 


64  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


ing  in  his  opinion,  incapable  of  personal  attachment ;  and  he  there- 
fore resolved  to  place  him  in  such  a  situation,  by  making  the 
king's  foes  formidable,  that  those  services  should  be  always  indis- 
pensable. On  his  being  interrogated,  he  avowed,  with  a  shame- 
less candour,  that,  for  this  purpose,  he  had  betrayed  the  secrets  of 
the  state  to  the  Burgundian  duke,  encouraged  the  Duke  of  Berry 
to  refuse  the  proposed  exchange,  advised  the  calamitous  interview 
and  disgraceful  treaty  of  Peronne,  and  recommended  to  Charles 
of  Burgundy  to  compel  the  king  to  accompany  him  on  the  expe- 
dition against  the  revolted  citizens  of  Liege. 

There  was  treason  enough  here  to  forfeit  a  hundred  heads,  had 
they  grown  on  laic  shoulders.  But,  as  far  as  regarded  the  final 
penalty  of  the  law,  their  ecclesiastical  character  proved  a  shield 
to  the  cardinal  and  his  associate.  The  king  desired  the  Pope  to 
nominate  apostolical  commissioners  to  try  the  criminals  ;  the  pope, 
on  the  other  hand,  contended  that  they  must  be  judged  by  the 
consistory,  and  that  the  decision  of  their  fate  must  be  left  to  him. 
A  long  negotiation  ensued  between  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
sovereigns,  and,  as  neither  would  concede,  the  offenders  were 
never  brought  to  trial  at  all. 

It  cannot,  however,  be  said  that  the  cardinal  and  the  bishop 
escaped  unscarred.  If  Louis  could  not  take  their  lives,  he  could 
at  least  render  their  lives  a  burden,  and  this  was  a  power  which 
he  was  not  backward  in  exercising.  In  the  province  of  Touraine, 
between  twenty  and  thirty  miles  to  the  southward  of  Tours,  stood 
the  castle  of  Loches,  one  of  the  sepulchres  in  which  Louis  buried 
his  living  victims.  It  was  there  that,  at  a  later  period,  Ludovico 
Sforza  lingered  out  the  last  years  of  his  existence.  Loches  was  well 
provided  with  oubliettes,  dungeons,  chains  of  enormous  weight, 
facetiously  called  the  king's  little  daughters,  iron  cages,  and  all 
other  means  of  torturing  the  body  and  mind.  Thither  Balue  was 
sent,  and  there  he  passed  eleven  lonely  years,  in  an  iron  cage, 
which  was  only  eight  feet  square.  His  fate  resembled  that  of 
Perillus — for  to  the  cardinal  himself  is  attributed  the  invention  of 
these  cages.  Perhaps  the  only  praise  which  he  ever  deserved  was 
gained  at  the  castle  of  Loches ;  the  praise  of  having  preserved 
his  courage  unshaken  throughout  the  whole  of  his  tedious  captivi- 
ty. Balue  was  released  in  1480,  went  to  Rome,  where  he  was 
received  with  open  arms,  was  sent  as  legate  to  France,  and  died  in 
1491,  Bishop  of  Albano,  and  legate  of  the  March  of  Ancona. 

His  confederate,  d'Haraucourt,  was  still  more  severely  pun- 
ished. The  Bastile  was  his  place  of  confinement,  and  there  a 
cage,  of  unusual  strength,  was  constructed  in  one  of  the  towers, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  65 

expressly  for  his  abode.  The  cage  was  formed  of  massy  beams, 
bolted  together  with  iron,  occupied  nineteen  carpenters  for  twenty 
days  in  framing  it,  and  was  so  heavy,  that  the  vault,  which  was 
to  support  it,  was  obliged  to  be  rebuilt  in  a  more  substantial  man- 
ner. Within  its  narrow  and  gloomy  limits,  d'Haraucourt  was 
immured  for  no  less  than  fifteen  years.  It  was  not  till  after  the 
death  of  Louis  the  Eleventh,  that  the  prisoner  was  set  at  liberty. 
He  died,  at  a  very  advanced  age,  in  the  year  1500. 

While  d'Haraucourt  was  wasting  away  life  in  his  cage,  there 
was  another  prisoner  in  the  Bastile,  who  was  enduring  far  worse 
misery,  and  was  far  more  worthy  of  compassion,  because,  though 
he  was  himself  guiltless,  he  suffered  the  penalty  of  another's 
crimes.  When,  in  1473,  the  restless  and  unprincipled  John, 
Count  of  Armagnac,  was  slain  at  Lectoure,  by  the  royal  troops, 
his  brother  Charles,  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  contest,  was 
arrested  by  order  of  Louis  the  Eleventh,  sent  to  the  Conciergerie, 
and  put  to  the  torture.  He  was  on  the  point  of  proving  his  inno- 
cence, when  he  was  removed  to  the  Bastile,  and  secluded  from  all 
access  of  friends.  L'Huillier,  the  governor,  treated  him  with  a 
cold-blooded  barbarity  which  was  worthy  of  a  man  who  held  office 
under  Louis.  There  was  nothing  that  cruelty  could  suggest  that 
was  not  practiced  on  the  unfortunate  Charles.  The  agonies  of 
the  captive  were  protracted  for  a  period  of  fourteen  years,  during 
all  which  time  he  inhabited  a  dreary  and  noisome  dungeon,  in 
which  water  almost  continually  dropped  upon  him,  and  he  could 
not  move  without  wading  through  slimy  mud.  He  was  liberated, 
and  his  property  was  restored,  by  Charles  the  Eighth.  The  boon, 
however,  came  too  late  to  be  of  any  avail.  His  reason  was  shaken 
by  what  he  had  undergone  ;  he  languished  for  a  few  years,  and 
died  in  1497. 

Less  compassion  is  due  to  the  next  inhabitant  of  the  Bastile 
who  appears  upon  the  scene.  Faithful  to  no  party,  he  fell  re- 
gretted by  none.  Louis  de  Luxembourg,  Count  of  St.  Pol,  who 
was  born  in  1418,  succeeded  to  the  possessions  of  his  father,  when 
he  was  only  fifteen.  He  did  not  receive  his  moral  education  in 
schools  where  humanity  and  honour  were  to  be  learned.  His 
uncle  and  guardian,  Count  de  Ligni,  was  well  qualified  to  brutal- 
ize his  youthful  mind.  It  was  de  Ligni  that  basely  sold  the  he- 
roine Joan  of  Arc  to  the  English,  for  ten  thousand  livres.  In  one 
of  his  campaigns,  he  took  his  nephew  with  him,  that  the  boy 
might  kill  some  of  the  prisoners,  in  order  to  accustom  him  to 
scenes  of  blood.  Louis  is  said  to  have  proved  an  apt  scholar, 
5 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

and  to  have  taken  delight  in  the  performance  of  his  murderous 
task. 

At  his  outset  in  life,  St.  Pol,  like  most  of  his  family,  was  a 
warm  partisan  of  the  English  party.  Circumstances,  however, 
having  compelled  him  to  visit  the  court  of  Charles  the  Seventh, 
he  met  with  so  nattering  a  reception,  that  he  deserted  his  party, 
and  devoted  himself  to  that  monarch.  With  the  dauphin  (who 
was  afterwards  Louis  the  Eleventh)  he  contracted  as  close  a 
friendship  as  can  subsist  between  two  such  characters.  St.  Pol 
distinguished  himself  in  the  service  of  his  new  master  on 
various  occasions,  particularly  at  the  sieges  of  the  Norman 
fortresses. 

Though  St.  Pol  had  given  up  the  English  party,  he  did  not 
break  off  his  old  connection  with  the  Burgundian  prince.  He 
fought  for  him  against  the  insurgent  citizens,  of  Ghent,  and  he 
even  joined  in  the  League  of  the  Public  Good,  as  it  was  ludi- 
crously styled,  and  led  the  vanguard  of  the  Count  de  Charolais, 
at  the  battle  of  Montlheri.  At  the  peace  of  Conflans,  Louis,  in 
the  hope  of  winning  him  over  from  the  Burgundian  interest, 
promoted  him  to  be  constable  of  France  ;  and  soon  after,  with  the 
same  view,  he  gave  him  the  hand  of  Mary  of  Savoy,  the  queen's 
sister,  and  granted  him  a  wide  extent  of  territory. 

These  favours  did  not  produce  the  desired  effect.  St.  Pol 
seems  to  have  had  little  gratitude  in  his  nature ;  and,  in  this  case, 
he  perhaps  thought  that  there  was  none  due  for  what  was  rather 
a  bribe  than  a  free  gift.  As  he  imagined  that  his  safety  consisted 
in  preventing  a  good  understanding  between  the  king  and  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  he  was  constantly  intriguing  to  keep  them 
at  variance,  and  he  alternately  betrayed  them.  His  intrigues 
being  discovered,  the  two  princes,  during  one  of  their  short 
periods  of  amity,  entered  into  a  compact,  by  which  they  de- 
clared him  their  common  enemy.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy  pro- 
raised,  that  if  the  constable  fell  into  his  hands,  he  would  surrender 
him  to  tKe  king  within  eight  days.  For  this  he  was  to  be  re- 
warded by  the  restoration  of  St.  Gluentin,  Amiens,  and  other  towns 
on  the  Somme.  This  agreement  was  of  course  kept  a  profound 
secret. 

What  St.  Pol  had  already  done  was  sufficient  to  seal  his  fate ; 
but  he  roused  the  anger  of  Louis  still  farther,  by  an  act  of  per- 
sonal disrespect,  and  by  leaguing  with  Edward  the  Fourth  of 
England  for  the  invasion  of  France.  It  was  not,  however,  till  he 
had  got  rid  of  Edward  by  a  treaty,  and  had  artfully  contrived  to 
irritate  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  still  more  against  St.  Pol,  that 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Louis  seriously  prepared  for  taking  vengeance  on  the  offender. 
The  negotiation  between  Edward  and  Louis  had  already  alarmed 
the  constable,  and,  to  conciliate  the  latter,  he  had  offered  to  attack 
the  English.  This  offer  Louis  communicated  to  Edward,  who, 
indignant  at  the  treachery  of  his  recent  confederate,  sent  the 
letters  which  he  had  received  from  him  to  the  French  monarch. 
Louis  was  thus  furnished  with  decisive  proofs.  To  the  overtures 
of  St.  Pol  he  replied  in  ambiguous  words,  the  real  meaning  of 
which  was  soon  made  evident :  "  I  am  overwhelmed  by  so  many 
affairs,"  said  the  Machiavelian  monarch,  *«  that  I  have  great  need 
of  a  good  head  like  yours  to  get  through  them." 

The  preparations  of  the  king  at  length  made  St.  Pol  fully 
aware  of  his  danger.  Hesitating  as  to  the  measure  which  in 
this  emergency  he  ought  to  adopt,  he  for  a  moment  half  resolved 
to  stand  on  his  defence  ;  but  reflection  on  the  superior  resources 
of  his  enemy  persuaded  him  that  he  had  no  chance  of  success 
from  arms.  Yet,  had  he  boldly  appealed  to  the  sword,  he  might, 
perhaps,  have  saved  his  life,  or  at  least  have  met  with  an 
honourable  death.  He  preferred  throwing  himself  on  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  whom  he  tempted  by  offering  him  his  strong 
towns,  as  the  price  of  protection.  Louis  demanded  that  he 
should  be  given  up  to  him  ;  and  after  some  qualms  of  conscience 
as  to  sacrificing  a  suppliant,  who  was  also  his  cousin,  Charles  of 
Burgundy  complied  with  the  demand.  St.  Pol  was  conveyed  to 
the  Bastile.  The  French  monarch  gave  him  his  choice,  either 
to  make  a  full  confession,  or  to  be  tried  in  the  customary  manner. 
The  latter  alternative  was  chosen  by  the  prisoner,  who  knew  not 
that  his  letters  to  Edward  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  were  in 
the  king's  hands,  and  therefore  believed  that  there  was  not  legal 
evidence  to  warrant  his  conviction.  His  judges  sentenced  him 
to  lose  his  head,  and  he  was  executed  on  the  19th  of  December, 
1475. 

The  last  captive  in  the  Bastile,  during  the  reign  of  Louis  the 
Eleventh,  or  rather  the  last  of  whom  any  record  remains — for 
there  were  doubtless  numbers  of  the  nameless  throng — was  an 
Armagnac ;  a  name  which  seems  to  have  been  fatal  to  its  owners. 
We  have  seen  one  Armagnac  torn  in  pieces  by  the  populace,  ano- 
ther treacherously  slain  after  the  surrender  of  his  stronghold,  a 
third  losing  his  reason  in  a  dungeon,  and  we  are  now  to  witness 
the  leading  of  a  fourth  to  the  scaffold,  under  circumstances  the  most 
horrible. 

James  of  Armagnac,  Duke  of  Nemours,  was  the  son  of  the  Count 
de  la  Marche,  who  was  the  governor  of  the  youthful  dauphin. 


68  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

When  the  pupil  of  the  count  ascended  the  throne,  he  gave  his 
cousin  Louisa  in  marriage  to  James  of  Arrnagnac,  and  conferred 
on  him  the  dukedom  of  Nemours,  with  all  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  the  peerage ;  an  honour  which  had  never  before 
been  enjoyed  by  any  other  than  princes  of  the  royal  family. 
Nemours,  nevertheless,  joined  the  League  of  the  Public  Good. 
Louis,  as  we  have  seen,  was  obliged  to  succumb  to  the  League  ; 
and,  by  the  consequent  peace  of  Conflans,  James  of  Armagnac 
obtained  the  government  of  Paris  and  the  Isle  of  France. 

Little  more  than  three  years  elapsed  before  Nemours  was  again 
engaged  in  intrigues  against  the  monarch.  But  the  time  was 
gone  by  when  revolt  could  lead  to  promotion.  Louis  had 
strengthened  his  authority,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  see  it  set 
at  nought.  He,  however,  pardoned  him ;  but  it  was  on  condition 
that  any  future  offence  should  render  him  liable  to  punishment 
for  the  past,  and  that  he  should  then  be  deprived  of  his  privilege 
of  peerage,  and  be  tried  as  a  private  individual. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  years  Nemours  once  more,  and  finally, 
brought  down  the  wrath  of  the  monarch  on  his  head.  He  was 
accused  of  treason,  and  Beaujeu  was  dispatched  to  besiege  him 
in  the  town  of  Carlat,  to  which  the  duke  had  retired.  Carlat 
was  supposed  to  be  impregnable,  and  it  was  provisioned  for 
two  or  three  ye^rs.  Nemours,  nevertheless,  surrendered  with- 
out resistance,  on  condition  that  his  life  should  be  spared  ;  Beau- 
jeu guaranteed  this  condition,  as  did  likewise  Louis  le  Graville, 
lord  of.  Montaigu,  and  Bonnie  le  Juge,  who  enjoyed  the  royal 
confidence.  The  wife  of  the  duke,  who  was  confined  in  child- 
bed, died  of  grief  and  terror,  on  seeing  her  husband  become  a 
prisoner. 

Nemours  was  conveyed,  first,  to  Pierre-Encise,  whence  he  was 
removed  to  the  Bastile  :  where  he  was  subjected  to  the  harshest 
usage.  All  his  supplications  to  the  king,  during  two  years' 
abode  in  the  Bastile,  were  unavailing;  or  rather,  indeed,  seem 
to  have  tended  to  irritate  him.  The  duke  had,  undoubtedly, 
been  a  turbulent  subject ;  but  nothing  can  palliate  the  infamy  of 
the  king's  conduct,  after  he  had  Nemours  in  his  power.  It  is 
difficult  to  account  for  the  inveteracy  of  his  hatred.  There  was 
no  conceivable  violation  of  justice  of  which  he  was  not  guilty. 
To  have  broken  the  pledge  solemnly  given  by  his  general  was 
little  compared  with  what  followed.  Such  of  the  judges  as 
seemed  inclined  to  show  mercy  were  threatened  and  displaced ; 
others  were  tempted  by  being  promised  to  share  in  the  spoils 
of  the  prisoner ;  the  place  where  the  court  held  its  sittings  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

more  than  once  arbitrarily  changed:  and  the  decent  formalities  of 
the  law,  as  well  as  its  essential  principles,  were  contemptuously 
discarded.  No  wonder  that  Nemours  was  condemned  to  death. 

But  now  a  scene  opens  which  casts  all  the  rest  into  shade,  and 
at  which  nature  shudders.  Nothing  was  omitted  that  could  render 
death  terrible  to  the  duke.  The  chamber,  where  he  confessed  to 
the  priest,  was  hung  with  black;  the  horse  which  took  him  to 
execution  was  covered  with  a  housing  of  the  same  hue.  He  was 
already  agonized  by  the  thought  that  his  children,  who  were  little 
more  than  infants,  were  reduced  to  beggary.  But  this  was  not 
enough:  a  scaffold  was  expressly  constructed  for  him  to  suffer  on, 
with  wide  openings  between  the  planks,  and  underneath,  clad  in 
white,  their  heads  naked,  and  their  hands  bound,  were  placed  his 
children,  that  they  might  be  drenched  with  their  parent's  blood. 
It  was  on  the  4th  of  August,  1477,  that  this  horrible  tragedy  was 
acted. 

Did  the  brutal  vindictiveness  of  the  monarch  end  here  ?  It  did 
not.  The  guiltless  children,  of  whom  the  youngest  was  only  five 
years  old,  were  taken  back  to  the  Bastile,  and  plunged  into  a 
loathsome  dungeon,  where  they  had  scarcely  the  power  of  mov- 
ing. There  they  remained  for  five  years,  till  the  accession  of 
Charles  the  Eighth  opened  their  prison  door.  A  part  of  the  con- 
fiscated property  of  their  father  was  subsequently  restored  to  them 
by  Charles.  The  health  of  two  of  them  was  so  broken  that  they 
did  not  long  survive.  The  youngest  inherited  the  title  of  Ne- 
mours, rose  to  be  Viceroy  of  Naples,  and  fell  at  the  battle  of 
Cerignoles,  in  1503.  ^  <. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Reign  of  Francis  I. — Semblancai. — The  Chancellor  Duprat.— The  Chancellor 
Poyet. — Admiral  de  Chabot. — Fall  of  Poyet. — Reign  of  Henry  II. — Anne  du 
Bourg. — Louis  du  Faur. — Reign  of  Francis  II. — Execution  of  du  Bourg. — 
Francis  de  Vendome. — Reign  of  Charles  IX. — The  Duke  of  Lunebourg. — 
Henry  of  Navarre  and  the  Prince  of Conde  in  danger  of  the  Bastile. — Faction 
of  the  Politicians. — La  Mole. — Coconas. — Marshal  de  Montmorenci. — Mar- 
shal de  Cosse. — Reign  of  Henry  III. — Bussi  d'Amboise. 

DURING  the  reigns  of  Charles  the  Eighth  and  Louis  the  Twelfth, 
a  period  of  more  than  thirty  years,  no  prisoners  of  note  appear 
to  have  been  incarcerated  in  the  Bastile.  In  the  reign  of  Francis 


70  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

the  First,  we  again  find  it  receiving  persons  of  rank  within  its 
gloomy  walls.  The  first  who  was  consigned  to  it  by  Francis  was 
James  de  Beaune,  Baron  of  Semblan^ai.  He  was  the  eldest  son 
of  John  de  Beaune,  a  citizen  of  Tours,  who  acquired  a  large  for- 
tune by  commerce,  and  who,  after  having  withdrawn  from  mer- 
cantile pursuits,  held  the  office  of  steward  to  Louis  the  Eleventh 
and  to  Charles  the  Eighth.  Semblan^ai  entered  early  into  the 
royal  service,  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Eighth,  rose  to  the  high 
situation  of  Superintendent  of  the  finances,  and  retained  it  under 
Louis  the  Twelfth  and  Francis  the  First.  It  was  to  his  talents 
he  was  indebted  for  preferment;  and  his  conduct,  in  the  difficult 
and  dangerous  post  which  he  occupied,  justified  his  elevation,  and 
gained  for  him  the  confidence  of  the  three  monarchs.  Francis  was 
even  accustomed  to  address  him  with  the  nattering  appellation  of 
father.  Keeping  aloof  from  all  court  intrigues,  he  displayed,  in 
his  official  character,  an  exemplary  regularity,  economy,  and  pro- 
bity ;  and  he  crowned  the  whole  by  a  virtue  which  is  still  more 
rare  in  a  finance  minister — that  of  endeavouring  to  alleviate  the 
burthens  of  the  people,  and  prevent  them  from  being  despoiled 
by  unprincipled  nobles. 

The  man  who  acted  thus  was  not  likely  to  be  without  enemies ; 
all  the  greedy  who  were  disappointed  of  thrusting  their  hands 
into  the  public  purse,  and  all  the  wasteful  and  corrupt,  to  whom  his 
example  was  a  stinging  rebuke,  would  of  course  abhor  him.  But 
Semblan^ai  might  have  set  their  malice  at  defiance  had  they  not 
found  an  invincible  ally  in  a  female  whose  venomous  hatred  was 
rendered  fatal  to  him  by  her  unbounded  influence. 

This  powerful  female  was  Louisa  of  Savoy,  Duchess  of  An- 
gouleme,  the  mother  of  Francis  the  First.  She  was  beautiful  in 
person,  a  doting  mother,  and  endowed  with  many  intellectual 
qualities  of  a  superior  class ;  but  she  was  immeasurably  ambitious, 
vindictive,  and  rapacious.  Such  was  her  avidity  for  riches,  and 
such  her  success  in  gratifying  it,  that,  at  the  time  of  her  death, 
her  coffers  contained  no  less  than  a  million  and  a  half  of  golden 
crowns — an  enormous,  not  to  say  disgraceful  hoard,  especially 
when  we  consider  what  was  the  value  of  the  sum  at  that  period. 
In  two  instances  her  criminal  passions  were  the  cause  of  shame 
and  misfortune  to  France.  Of  the  first  of  these  we  are  about  to 
speak;  the  second  was  her  persecution  of  the  Constable  de  Bour- 
bon— a  base  and  disastrous  measure,  which  was  prompted  either 
by  resentment  for  his  rejection  of  her  love,  or  by  her  eagerness  to 
seize  upon  his  ample  domains,  or,  perhaps,  by  a  combination  of 
both  these  unworthy  motives. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  71 


The  regard  which  was  manifested  for  Semblancai  by  Francis 
was,  at  one  period,  equally  felt  by  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme. 
There  exists,  under  her  hand,  the  strongest  testimony  to  the  recti- 
tude of  the  superintendent,  and  of  the  generous  sacrifices  which 
he  made  to  provide  for  the  wants  of  the  state.  It  was  not  till  the 
necessity  of  vindicating  his  own  character  compelled  him  to  crimi- 
nate her,  that  she  became  his  enemy. 

Jealous  of  the  influence  possessed  by  the  Countess  of  Chateau- 
briant,  the  mistress  of  Francis,  whose  brother,  Lautrec,  was  then 
governor  of  the  Milanese  and  commander  of  the  French  army  in 
that  province,  the  duchess  appears  to  have  formed  the  plan  of 
aiming  a  deadly  blow  at  the  sister  through  the  side  of  the  brother. 
If,  by  disabling  him  from  defending  the  Milanese,  she  could  bring 
Lautrec  into  disgrace,  it  was  not  improbable  that  the  disgusted 
and  indignant  monarch,  who  set  a  high  value  on  his  Italian  con- 
quest, would  extend  his  anger  to  the  countess.  The  means  which 
she  adopted  for  bringing  her  scheme  to  bear  had  also  an  additional 
and  not  trivial  merit  in  her  eyes ;  that  of  contributing  to  swell  the 
mass  of  treasure  which  she  had  already  accumulated. 

In  the  first  part  of  her  project,  she  completely  succeeded.  De- 
prived of  the  pecuniary  resources  which  he  had  expected  from 
France,  and  which  were  the  more  needful,  as  the  harshness  of 
his  government  had  rendered  him  unpopular  in  Italy,  Lautrec 
was  defeated  at  the  battle  of  the  Bicocco,  was  deserted  by  his 
Swiss  auxiliaries,  and  at  length  was  driven  from  the  Duchy  of 
Milan. 

The  disgrace  thus  cast  upon  the  French  arms,  and  that,  too,  in 
a  country  which  he  in  person  had  won,  could  not  fail  to  exasperate 
a  young  and  warlike  sovereign.  When  Lautrec  returned  to  his 
native  land  the  king  refused  to  admit  him  to  his  presence;  but  at 
last,  through  the  intercession  of  his  sister,  and  of  the  Constable 
de  Bourbon,  the  vanquished  general  obtained  an  audience.  He 
was  received  with  a  frowning  countenance ;  and  he  boldly  com- 
plained of  his  reception.  "Is  it  possible  for  me,"  said  Francis, 
sternly,  "to  look  favourably  on  a  man  who  is  guilty  of  having  lost 
my  Duchy  of  Milan?" 

Nowise  daunted  by  this  rebuff,  Lautrec  firmly  replied,  "  I  will 
dare  to  assert,  that  your  majesty  is  the  sole  cause  of  that  loss.  For 
eighteen  months  your  gendarmes  had  not  a  single  farthing  of  pay. 
The  Swiss,  with  whose  disposition  as  to  money  you  are  well  ac- 
quainted, were  also  left  unpaid.  It  was  solely  by  my  management 
that  they  were  retained  for  several  months  with  my  army.  There 
would  have  been  no  reason  for  wonder  had  they  quitted  it  without 


72  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

drawing  their  swords ;  their  respect  for  me  induced  them,  however, 
not.  to  desert  me  till  after  a  sanguinary  combat.  They  compelled 
me  to  give  battle,  though  I  foresaw  clearly  that  there  was  no  hope 
of  victory;  but,  in  my  circumstances,  prudence  dictated  to  risk 
everything,  however  little  chance  there  might  appear  that  our 
efforts  would  be  successful.  The  whole  of  my  crime  amounts  to 
this." 

The  astonishment  of  Francis  was  excited  by  this  speech  of 
Lautrec.  "What!"  exclaimed  he,  "did  you  not  receive  the  four 
hundred  thousand  crowns,  which  I  ordered  to  be  sent  to  you  soon 
after  your  arrival  at  Milan?"  " No,  sire,"  answered  Lautrec; 
"your  majesty's  letters  came  to  hand,  but  no  money  was  forwarded 
to  me;  nor  did  it  ever  pass  the  Alps." 

Semblan^ai  was  immediately  summoned  into  his  presence  by 
Francis,  to  account  for  such  an  extraordinary  violation  of  his  duty. 
In  his  defence,  the  superintendent  stated,  that  the  duchess,  vested 
with  authority  as  regent,  had  demanded  from  him  the  four  hundred 
thousand  crowns,  and  that  he  held  her  receipt  for  the  sum. 

Irritated  by  this  unexpected  discovery,  Francis  hastened  to  his 
mother's  apartment,  and  reproached  her  for  conduct  which  had 
cost  him  a  part  of  his  dominions.  The  duchess  is  said  to  have 
begun  her  reply  by  a  denial  of  the  fact.  She  was,  however,  ulti- 
mately compelled  to  own  that  she  had  indeed  obtained  four  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns  from  Semblan^ai ;  but  she  artfully  pretended, 
that  she  had  previously  confided  the  money  to  his  care,  and  that 
it  was  the  produce  of  savings  from  her  income.  Semblancai,  on 
the  contrary,  strenuously  protested  that  she  had  never  entrusted 
anything  to  his  keeping,  and  that  when  she  drew  from  him  the 
funds  in  question,  he  had  told  her  that  they  were  set  apart  by  the 
king  for  the  service  of  the  forces  in  Italy. 

Francis  was  no  doubt  convinced  of  her  guilt,  but  he  could  not 
bear  the  idea  of  openly  stigmatizing  a  mother  whom  he  loved. 
There  was  consequently  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  bury  as  far  as 
was  possible  the  whole  transaction  in  oblivion.  Abruptly  putting 
an  end  to  the  altercation  between  the  duchess  and  the  superintend- 
ent, he  said,  "  Let  us  think  no  more  on  the  subject !  we  did  not 
deserve  to  conquer;  it  was  in  vain  that  fortune  declared  on  our 
side ;  we  threw  insuperable  obstacles  in  the  way  of  her  favour. 
Let  us  cease  to  be  traitors  to  each  other,  and  let  us  henceforth  en- 
deavour to  act  for  the  public  good,  with  more  wisdom  and  union 
than  we  have  hitherto  displayed." 

That  Semblancai  continued  to  hold  his  place,  is  a  sufficient 
proof  that  his  assertion  was  credited  by  the  king.  That  the  re- 
vengeful duchess  was  eager  to  ruin  him,  we  might  easily  have 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  73 

believed,  even  had  the  result  not  afforded  evidence  of  the  fact. 
For  a  considerable  time,  however,  she  silently  nursed  her  wrath. 
It  was  not  till  1524,  when  a  new  expedition  was  in  preparation 
against  the  Milanese,  that  she  found  an  opportunity  of  striking 
her  blow.  Money  was  wanted;  and  Semblan^ai,  who  had  come 
forward  on  former  occasions,  was  desired  to  make  an  advance 
from  his  private  fortune.  But  this  he  declined  to  do;  pleading,  as 
a  reason  for  his  refusal  that  a  debt  of  three  hundred  thousand 
crowns  was  already  owing  to  him.  He  was  punished  by  dis- 
missal from  his  office — if  that  can  be  called  a  punishment  for  which 
he  appears  to  have  sought — and,  after  having  given  in  his  ac- 
counts, and  shown  that  they  were  correct,  he  retired  to  his  estate 
of  Balan,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Tours. 

On  the  departure  of  Francis  for  Italy,  he  again  appointed  his 
mother  to  act  as  regent.  She  had  now  unlimited  power ;  and,  as 
far  as  concerned  Semblan^ai,  she  exercised  it  cruelly  and  basely. 
She  began  by  instituting  against  him  a  suit,  to  recover  a  balance 
which  she  alleged  to  be  due  to  her,  as  a  part  of  the  pretended  deposit. 
To  bolster  up  her  cause,  she  is  accused  of  having  stooped  to  the  most 
degrading  means.  Gentil,  the  confidential  clerk  of  Semblan^ai, 
was  enamoured  of  one  of  her  attendants  ;  and  this  female  the  re- 
gent employed  to  steal,  or  obtain  by  blandishments,  the  receipt 
which  had  been  given  to  the  superintendent. 

This  suit  was  probably  meant  to  answer  the  double  purpose  of 
narrowing  his  resources  and  injuring  his  character.  But  this  mode 
of  proceeding  was  "too  poor,  too  weak,  for  her  revenge,"  and  she 
soon  adopted  another,  which  struck  directly  at  his  life.  His  secre- 
tary, John  Prevost,  who  seems  himself  to  have  had  reason  for 
dreading  an  inquiry  into  his  official  conduct,  was  tampered  with, 
to  cause  the  ruin  of  his  master.  Impunity  for  his  own  misdoings 
was  to  be  the  price  of  his  new  crime.  A  charge  of  peculation 
was  brought  against  Semblan^ai,  and,  towards  the  close  of  1526, 
he  was  committed  to  the  Bastile.  To  render  his  fate  certain,  the 
office  of  sitting  in  judgment  upon  him  was  entrusted  to  the  Chan- 
cellor Duprat,  who  had  been  his  rival,  was  still  his  deadliest  foe, 
and  was,  besides,  a  devoted  tool  of  the  queen  mother.  As  his 
colleagues,  or  rather  accomplices,  Duprat  selected,  from  the  various 
parliaments,  men  on  whose  subserviency  he  could  rely.  From  a 
tribunal  thus  infamously  constituted,  not  even  a  semblance  of  jus- 
tice could  be  expected.  On  the  9th  of  August,  1527,  Semblan^ai, 
who  was  then  in  his  sixty-second  year,  was  condemned  to  be 
hanged;  and  this  sentence  was,  shortly  after,  executed  on  him, 
at  the  gibbet  of  Montfaucon. 


74  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

The  popular  feeling,  with  respect  to  Semblan^ai,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  at  least  a  strong  presumptive  proof  of  his  innocence. 
It  is  not  often  that  the  fall  of  a  finance  minister  is  a  subject  of 
sorrow  to  the  multitude.  In  his  case  we  find  one  of  the  few  ex- 
ceptions ;  for  the  people  beheld  his  melancholy  fate  with  grief, 
surprise,  and  indignation,  and  they  long  looked  with  an  evil  eye 
on  the  malignant  princess  by  whom  he  was  judicially  murdered. 

There  is  an  apparent  but  not  a  real  discrepancy  in  the  accounts 
of  the  behaviour  of  Semblan^ai,  when  his  doom  was  sealed.  From 
the  language  of  Du  Bouchet,  who  represents  him  as  weeping  bit- 
terly, and  cherishing  hopes  of  pardon  till  the  last  moment,  a 
hasty  conclusion  might  be  drawn,  that  the  courage  of  the  victim 
deserted  him.  But  wounded  honour,  and  a  keen  sense  of  the 
ingratitude  with  which  a  life  of  services  was  repaid,  might  well 
wring  tears  from  his  eyes,  though  his  mind  remained  unmoved 
by  the  fear  of  death.  That  his  firmness  was,  in  fact,  not  to  be 
shaken,  we  have  the  unexceptionable  testimony  of  Marot,  who  pro- 
bably witnessed  the  calm  deportment  of  Semblan^ai  when  going 
to  the  scaffold.  In  his  lines,  which  bear  the  title  of  "Du  Lieute- 
nant Criminel  et  de  Semblan^ai,"  the  poet  thus  forcibly  expresses 
himself — 

"  When  Maillard,  hellish  judge,  led  Semblangai 
On  gallows  tree  to  pass  from  life  away, 
Say  which  of  them  most  undisturbed  was  seen?" 
"  I'll  tell  you,  friend :  so  blank  was  Maillard's  mien, 
He  looked  as  though  he  saw  the  direful  dart 
Of  death  hang  o'er  him  ;  but  so  brave  a  heart 
Semblangai  showed,  you  would  have  sworn  that  he 
Was  leading  Maillard  to  the  gallows  tree." 

We  have  seen  that  the  chancellor  Duprat  was  the  instrument 
which  Louisa  of  Savoy  employed  to  accomplish  the  destruction  of 
Semblangai.  At  an  earlier  period  he  had  served  her  as  effectually 
in  a  similar  case.  Her  suit  against  the  Constable  de  Bourbon,  to 
strip  him  of  his  vast  estates,  is  said  to  have  been  suggested  by  Du- 
prat, and  was  certainly  brought  to  a  favourable  issue  by  the  exer- 
cise of  his  influence  over  the  judges.  His  hatred  of  the  constable 
was  caused,  or  sharpened,  by  Bourbon  having  refused  to  comply 
with  a  request  relative  to  the  grant  of  an  estate  in  Auvergne. 
Detested  by  all  France,  for  the  fiscal  oppressions  of  which  he  was 
the  author,  and  for  his  having  betrayed  the  liberties  of  the  Galli- 
can  church,  the  chancellor  nevertheless  retained  his  power  to  the 
last,  and  died  loaded  with  titles  and  riches. 

Another  tool  of  the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  who  closely  imitated 
the  conduct  'of  Duprat,  was  not  equally  fortunate.  William  Poyet, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTTLE.  75 

a  native  of  Angers,  born  about  1474,  had  acquired  a  high  reputa- 
tion at  the  bar  before  he  was  chosen  the  queen-mother's  advocate 
against  the  Constable  de  Bourbon.  The  manner  in  which  he 
performed  his  new  task  ensured  his  promotion.  He  became 
successively  advocate-general,  and  president-a-mortier,  and  was 
employed  in  various  negotiations;  and,  at  length,  in  1538,  his 
ambition  was  gratified  by  his  appointment  to  the  high  office  of 
chancellor.  If  servility  to  the  monarch,  and  an  utter  disregard 
of  the  rights  and  happiness  of  the  people,  are  qualifications  for  that 
office,  his  fitness  cannot  be  denied.  He  was  undoubtedly  worthy 
of  succeeding  to  Duprat. 

The  profligate  readiness  with  which  Poyet  encouraged  Francis 
the  First  to  load  his  subjects  with  heavy  taxes,  drew  upon  him  a 
severe  reproof  from  Duchatel,  the  virtuous  and  benevolent  Bishop 
of  Orleans.  Hearing  the  chancellor  tell  the  king  that  his  majesty 
was  the  master  of  all  that  his  subjects  possessed,  the  bishop  indig- 
nantly exclaimed,  "  Carry  such  tyrannical  maxims  to  the  Caligu- 
las  and  Neros,  and,  if  you  have  no  respect  for  yourself,  at  least 
respect  a  monarch  who  is  the  friend  of  humanity,  and  who  knows 
that  to  hold  its  rights  sacred  is  the  first  of  his  duties."  This 
speech  did  honour  to  the  prelate,  but  there  is  no  ground  for  be- 
lieving that  it  produced  any  good  effect  upon  either  the  sovereign 
or  the  minister. 

It  was  by  female  influence  that  Poyet  was  raised  to  his  lofty 
station ;  it  was  by  the  same  influence  that  he  was  precipitated 
from  it.  Two  parties  existed  at  court,  those  of  the  dauphin  and 
the  Duke  of  Alen^on,  the  heads  of  which  were  the  Constable  de 
Monttnorenci  and  the  Admiral  de  Chabot.  Besides  the  hatred 
which  he  felt  against  Chabot  as  a  political  rival,  the  haughty 
Montmorenci  found,  in  the  unceremonious  tone  of  equality  with 
which  he  was  addressed  by  the  admiral,  another  reason  for  hating 
him.  To  ruin  an  enemy  by  underhand  measures,  was  the  natural 
proceeding  of  a  courtier.  He  insinuated  to  the  king  that  Chabot 
had  acquired  his  riches  by  iniquitous  practices  ;  and,  by  holding  out 
the  lure  of  a  cardinal's  hat,  he  induced  Poyet  to  assist  in  Chabot's 
destruction.  The  chancellor  exerted  himself  so  strenuously  in 
raking  up  matter  of  accusation  against  the  intended  victim,  that 
he  at  length  produced  five-and-twenty  charges,  each  of  which,  he 
declared,  would  subject  the  delinquent  to  capital  punishment.  The 
alleged  criminality  of  Chabot  was  soon  made  known  to  the  king. 

It  is  probable,  nevertheless,  that  remembering  the  services  of 
Chabot,  and  the  friendship  which  had  existed  ever  since  their 
youthful  days,  Francis  would  have  overlooked  the  supposed  crimes, 


76  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

kad  he  not  been  provoked  by  a  speech  which  sounded  like  de- 
fiance. Some  trifling  dispute  occurring  between  them,  he  threat- 
ened to  bring  him  to  trial;  to  which  Chabot  boldly  replied,  that  a 
trial  had  no  terrors  for  him,  his  conduct  having  always  been  so 
irreproachable,  that  neither  his  life  nor  his  honour  could  be  put  in 
danger.  Francis  was  weak  enough  to  take  offence  at  this  implied 
challenge;  he  committed  the  offender  to  the  castle  of  Melun,  and 
directed  the  chancellor  to  prosecute  him. 

Poyet  rushed  upon  his  prey  with  the  ferocity  of  a  hungry  tiger. 
He  began  by  selecting  the  commissioners  who  were  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  Chabot ;  and,  to  ensure  their  obedience,  he  himself,  con- 
trary to  established  custom,  presided  over  them.  Yet,  with  such 
instruments,  and  in  spite  of  all  his  unprincipled  efforts  to  spur 
them  on,  he  was  not  able  fully  to  accomplish  his  purpose.  So 
groundless  were  the  articles  of  impeachment,  there  being  only- 
two  of  them  which  at  all,  and  those  but  slightly  affected  the  pri- 
soner, that,  instead  of  voting  for  death,  the  judges  were  disposed 
either  to  acquit  him,  or,  at  most,  to  pass  a  lenient  sentence.  By 
dint,  however,  of  threats,  the  chancellor  compelled  them  to  go  far 
beyond  their  intention  ;  they  consequently  condemned  Chabot  to 
a  fine  of  fifteen  thousand  livres,  confiscation  of  property  and  per- 
petual exile.  One  of  them  is  said  to  have  added  to  his  signature 
the  Latin  word  vi,  in  almost  imperceptible  characters;  thus  signi- 
fying that  force  had  been  used  to  extort  his  consent.  Not  content 
with  the  daring  contempt  of  justice  which  he  had  already  dis- 
played, Poyet,  in  drawing  up  the  judgment  of  the  court,  did  not 
hesitate  to  falsify  it,  by  inserting  additional  crimes,  and  aggravat- 
ing the  penalty. 

Though  Francis  was  irritated  by  the  honourable  boldness  of 
Chabot,  he  had  never  intended  to  carry  matters  to  extremity  against 
him.  He  could  not  now  avoid  being  astonished  that  the  charges 
had  dwindled  into  such  utter  insignificance,  and  that  nevertheless 
a  sentence  of  such  undue  severity  was  pronounced;  and  he  ap- 
pears to  have  been  also  warmly  solicited  in  his  behalf  by  a  pre- 
vailing advocate,  the  Duchess  of  Etampes,  the  royal  mistress  who 
was  a  relation  of  Chabot.  Yet  though  the  king  designed  to  re- 
ceive the  admiral  again  into  favour,  he  could  not  deny  himself  the 
mean  gratification  of  taunting  him.  "  Well,"  said  he  to  him, 
"will  you  again  boast  of  your  innocence?"  "Sire,"  replied 
Chabot,  "  I  have  but  too  well  learned,  that  before  God  and  his 
sovereign  no  man  must  call  himself  innocent ;  but  I  have  one  con- 
solation, that  all  the  malice  of  my  enemies  has  failed  to  convict 
me  of  having  ever  been  unfaithful  to  your  majesty.".  Chabot  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  77 

pardoned,  and  reinstated  in  his  offices.  This  tardy  justice  came 
too  late;  though  his  enemies  had  been  unable  to  drag  him  to  the 
scaffold, 'they  had  succeeded  in  shortening  his  days.  In  little  more 
than  twelve  months,  his  existence  was  terminated  by  a  disease, 
seemingly  of  the  heart,  which  was  brought  on  by  the  grief  and 
anxiety  that  he  had  suffered. 

Chabot,  however,  lived  long  enough  to  witness  the  downfall  of 
his  adversaries.  To  Montmorenci  the  king  intimated,  that  he  had 
no  longer  occasion  for  his  services;  and  the  dismissed  courtier  in 
consequence  retired  to  Chantilly,  whence  he  did  not  emerge 
during  the  remainder  of  Francis'  reign.  A  heavier  misfortune 
awaited  Poyet,  and  it  speedily  fell  upon  him.  Two  females,  the 
Duchess  of  Etampes,  and  the  Q,ueen  of  Navarre,  were  the  foes  who 
overthrew  him.  The  duchess,  who  was  already  offended  by  his 
persecution  of  her  relative,  he  exasperated  beyond  measure,  by 
refusing  to  perform  an  illegal  act  in  favour  of  one  of  her  friends; 
the  Queen  of  Navarre  he  alienated  in  a  similar  manner;  and  he 
rendered  both  of  them  more  inveterate,  by  some  bitter  remarks 
on  the  influence  which  females  possessed  over  the  mind  of  the 
sovereign.  They  combined  together  for  his  ruin,  and  they  effected 
it.  In  August,  1542,  he  was  dragged  from  his  bed,  and  carried 
to  the  Bastile.  Thus,  after  having  been  allowed  to  be  unjust 
with  impunity,  he  was  punished  for  recollecting  at  last  that  he  had 
duties  to  perform.  In  this  emergency,  he  had  the  mingled  au- 
dacity and  meanness  to  write  to  Chabot,  imploring  his  forgiveness 
and  protection.  After  having  been  three  years  in  prison,  he  was 
declared  incapable  of  ever  holding  office,  and  was  sentenced  to 
five  years'  imprisonment,  and  to  pay  a  fine  of  a  hundred  thousand 
livres.  The  king  himself,  with  a  strange  want  of  decorum,  came 
forward  as  a  witness  against  him  on  the  trial.  Poyet  died  in  1548, 
an  object  of  general  contempt. 

The  captives,  to  whom  our  attention  is  now  to  be  directed,  were 
of  a  very  different  character  from  the  chancellor  Poyet ;  they 
were  sufferers  for  conscience'  sake ;  men  who,  when  the  question 
related  to  religious  interests,  deemed  it  a  duty  not  to  submit  in 
silence  to  arbitrary  power.  Their  names  were  Anne  du  Bourg, 
and  Louis  du  Faur,  and  they  were  counselors  of  the  parliament 
at  Paris.  The  uncle  of  du  Bourg  was  chancellor  in  the  reign  of 
Francis  I.  Du  Faur  was  of  a  family  which  had  produced  many 
eminent  characters,  among  whom  is  to  be  numbered  Guy  du  Faur, 
Lord  of  Fibrac,  author  of  the  well-known  Quatrains. 

Pressed,  it  is  said,  by  the  Guises,  and  by  the  Duchess  of  Valen- 
tinois,  his  "mistress,  the  latter  of  whom  was  looking  forward  to  the 


78  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

benefit  she  might  expect  from  confiscations,  Henry  the  Second 
unwisely  resolved  to  carry  to  the  full  extent  the  persecution  of 
the  Protestants.  Hitherto,  only  the  humbler  classes  had  been 
marked  out  for  punishment ;  but  as  nothing  more  than  the  mere 
pleasure  of  tormenting  could  be  derived  from  pursuing  them,  it 
was  now  determined  that  men  of  higher  rank  should  suffer  in 
their  turn.  This  was  at  least  impartial  injustice.  It  was  believed 
that  the  reformed  doctrines  had  many  partisans  among  the  magis- 
tracy ;  and  the  members  of  the  parliament  of  Paris  were  there- 
fore* selected,  as  the  subjects  upon  whom  the  new  experiment  of 
rigour  should  be  first  tried.  This  step  was  taken  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  le  Maitre,  the  chief  president,  who  had  the  baseness  to 
deliver  privately  to  the  king  a  list  of  his  Protestant  colleagues,  and 
also  a  tempting  statement  of  the  property  which  they  possessed. 

It  was  a  custom  of  the  heads  of  the  parliament  to  meet  at  stated 
periods,  for  the  purpose,  among  other  things,  of  inquiring  into 
any  alleged  neglect  or  violation  of  duty  on  the  part  of  the  mem- 
bers. These  meetings,  which  were  established  by  an  edict  of 
Charles  VIII.,  were  called  the  Mercuriales,  from  the  circumstance 
of  their  taking  place  on  a  Wednesday.  To  one  of  these  assem- 
blies, while  it  was  in  the  midst  of  a  debate  on  the  measures  which 
ought  to  be  adopted  with  respect  to  heretics,  the  king  suddenly 
came,  without  any  previous  notice,  accompanied  by  the  Guises, 
and  other  rigidly  Catholic  nobles,  and  guarded  by  a  formidable 
escort. 

Previously  to  his  arrival,  the  balance  of  opinion  had  inclined  to 
the  side  of  a  lenient  administration  of  the  law,  until  the  discipline 
of  the  church  had  been  reformed  by  a  new  ecumenical  council. 
Though  the  monarch  affected  to  be  calm,  it  was  easy  to  perceive 
that  he  was  under  the  influence  of  passion.  He  made  a  vehe- 
ment harangue,  in  which  he  dwelt  on  the  disturbances  caused  by 
sectaries,  and  on  the  necessity  of  defending  the  church,  and  then 
ordered  the  members  to  resume  the  debate,  and  promised  them 
freedom  of  speech. 

The  promise  was  meant  only  as  a  snare.  The  manner  in 
which  the  king  had  come  to  the  sitting,  in  open  contempt  of  usage 
and  even  of  decorum,  plainly  showed  that  his  intention  was  to  in- 
timidate. But,  by  pretending  to  guarantee  the  privilege  of  freely 
speaking,  he  hoped  to  do  away  the  impression  which  his  abrupt 
coming  had  made,  and  delude  the  speakers  into  a  disclosure  of 
their  real  sentiments.  There  were  some,  perhaps,  who  confided 
in  his  word ;  there  were  others  who,  doubtless,  were  aware  that 
no  reliance  was  to  be  placed  on  it,  but  who,  nevertheless,  thought 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  79 

they  were  called  upon  to  maintain,  at  all  hazards,  what  they 
deemed  to  be  the  cause  of  religion  and  truth.  Of  the  latter  class 
were  Anne  du  Bourg  and  Louis  du  Faur. 

Du  Faur  admitted  that  troubles  arose  in  the  state  from  the  dif- 
ference of  religions,  but  he  contended  that  it  ought  to  be  inquired 
who  was  really  the  author  of  those  troubles ;  and  with  a  manifest 
allusion  to  the  king,  he  added,  that  if  this  were  done,  the  same 
reply  might  perhaps  be  made  as  was  given  on  a  similar  occasion 
by  the  prophet  Elijah  to  Ahab,  "I  have  not  troubled  Israel,  but 
thou  and  thy  father's  house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken  the  com- 
mandments of  the  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed  Baalim." 

The  speech  of  du  Bourg,  though  it  seemed  to  be  less  directly 
personal  to  the  monarch,  was  as  well  calculated  as  that  of  du  Faur 
to  excite  angry  feelings  in  Henry,  and  in  many  of  the  hearers,  on 
whose  vices  it  made  a  rude  attack.  There  were  men,  he  said, 
whose  blasphemies,  adulteries,  horrible  debaucheries,  and  repeated 
perjuries,  crimes  worthy  of  the  worst  death,  were  not  merely  over- 
looked, but  shamefully  encouraged,  while  every  day  new  punish- 
ments were  invented  for  men  who  were  irreproachable.  "For  of 
what  crime  can  they  be  accused?"  exclaimed  he.  "Can  they  be 
charged  with  high  treason,  they  who  never  mention  the  sovereign 
but  in  the  prayers  which  they  offer  up  for  him?  Who  can  say 
that  they  violate  the  laws  of  the  state,  endeavour  to  shake  the 
fidelity  of  the  towns,  or  incite  the  provinces  to  revolt?  With 
all  the  pains  that  have  been  taken,  not  even  with  witnesses  picked 
out  for  the  purpose,  has  it  been  possible  to  convict  them  of  having 
so  much  as  thought  of  these  things.  No !  All  their  fault  and 
misfortune  is,  that,  by  means  of  the  light  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
they  have  discovered  and  revealed  the  shameless  turpitude  of  the 
Papal  power,  and  have  demanded  a  salutary  reformation.  This 
is  their  sedition." 

When  all  the  members  had  delivered  their  opinions,  some  of 
which  were  favourable  to  mild  measures,  the  king  called  for  the 
register,  in  which  were  inscribed  the  opinions  of  those  who  had 
spoken  before  his  arrival,  and  also  on  a  previous  day.  He  then 
addressed  to  the  assembly  another  speech  of  censure  and  menace, 
aiid  ended  by  ordering  the  arrest  of  du  Bourg  and  du  Faur,  who 
were  present,  and  likewise  of  six  absent  members.  The  two 
former  were  conveyed  to  the  Bastile,  where  du  Bourg,  and  pro- 
bably du  Faur  also,  were  shut  up  in  a  cage.  Three  of  the  others 
escaped;  the  rest  were  sent  to  other  places  of  confinement. 

This  arbitrary  act  was  the  last  which  Henry  had  the  power  of 
committing.  On  that  day  fortnight,  at  a  tournament,  he  was  mor- 


80  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

tally  wounded  by  a?  splinter  from  the  lance  of  the  Count  de  Mont- 
gomery. The  scene  of  the  tournament  was  near  the  Bastile ; 
and  it  is  said  that  as  the  wounded  monarch  was  carried  past  the 
prison,  his  conscience  smote  him,  and  he  more  than  once  expressed 
his  fears  that  he  had  behaved  unjustly  to  men  who  were  innocent. 
The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  who  was  with  him,  is  also  said  to  have 
assured  him  that  such  an  idea  could  have  been  inspired  only  by 
the  arch-fiend,  and  admonished  him  to  reject  it,  and  adhere  firmly 
to  his  faith.  This  story,  however,  has  no  other  foundation  than 
popular  report. 

The  reign  of  Francis  II.  opened  under  no  favourable  auspices 
for  the  Protestants.  The  minor  king  was  wholly  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Guises,  and  of  his  mother  Catherine  of  Medicis,  all 
of  whom  had  vowed  a  deadly  hostility  to  them.  The  persecu- 
tion was  accordingly  resumed  with  an  increase  of  vigour.  The 
trial  of  the  members  of  the  parliament  was  pushed  on;  but  it  was 
against  du  Bourg  that  the  hatred  of  the  court  was  peculiarly  di- 
rected— the  sweeping  crimination  which  was  contained  in  his 
speech  before  the  deceased  Henry,  had  wounded  many  great 
personages  too  deeply  to  be  forgiven. 

Before  the  death  of  Henry,  a  commission  had  been  appointed, 
which  had  interrogated  du  Bourg  on  the  subject  of  his  religious 
tenets.  He  having  candidly  avowed  them,  they  were  pronounced 
heretical  by  the  Bishops  of  Paris,  and  he  was  delivered  over  to 
the  secular  authority.  Du  Bourg  appealed  to  the  Archbishop  of 
Sens,  and  to  the  parliament,  but  without  effect.  The  trial  was 
proceeded  with,  and,  while  it  was  pending,  an  event  occurred, 
which  contributed  to  render  his  enemies  still  more  inveterate. 
One  of  his  judges  was  a  counselor  named  Minard,  a  man  of  pro- 
fligate life,  who  had  given  violent  advice  to  the  late  king.  Du 
Bourg,  therefore,  repeatedly  challenged  him  as  incompetent  to  sit 
upon  the  trial,  and,  on  Minard  refusing  to  withdraw,  the  prisoner 
is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "God  wrill  know  how  to  compel  thee  !" 
It  unfortunately  happened  that,  returning  one  evening  to  his  home 
from  the  trial,  Minard  was  assassinated  by  a  pistol  being  fired  at 
him.  Du  Bourg  was  suspected,  and  not  without  an  appearance, 
of  reason,  of  being  implicated  in  the  murder,  and  this  hastened 
his  fate.  There  is  no  ground  whatever  to  believe  that  he  was 
concerned  in  the  foul  deed;  but  it  must  be  owned,  that  such  pro- 
phecies as  he  ventured  upon  are  dangerous,  because  they  have  a 
tendency  to  bring  about  their  own  fulfilment.  It  is  not  improba- 
ble, that  the  act  was  suggested  to  the  mind  of  some  fanatical  Pro- 
testant by  the  words  of  the  prisoner. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  81 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  Elector  Palatine  wrote  to  the  French 
monarch,  to  entreat  him  to  spare  the  life  of  du  Bourg,  and  that 
numerous  eminent  persons,  even  Catholics,  solicited  to  the  same 
effect.  Neither  their  intercession,  nor  his  acknowledged  integrity 
and  pure  morals,  availed  to  save  him.  He  was  condemned  to  be 
hanged,  and  his  body  burnt,  at  the  Place  de  Greve.  He  died  at 
the  age  of  thirty-eight,  with  a  calm  heroism,  and  Christian  spirit 
of  forgiveness,  which  excited  general  admiration.  His  death,  far 
from  being  beneficial  to  the  Catholic  cause,  was  exceedingly 
injurious  to  it.  The  Protestants  regarded  him  as  a  martyr, 
gloried  in  him  as  an  honour  to  their  party  and  faith,  and  were 
not  slow  in  taking  a  heavy  vengeance  for  his  untimely  doom. 

The  blood  of  du  Bourg  seems  to  have  deadened  the  fire  of  per- 
secution, as  far  as  related  to  the  other  parliamentary  prisoners. 
Some  were  subjected  to  little  more  than  nominal  punishments; 
and  even  du  Faur,  the  most  obnoxious  of  them,  was  only  con- 
demned to  pay  a  fine,  ask  pardon,  and  be  suspended  from  his 
judicial  functions  for  five  years.  But  comparatively  light  as  this 
sentence  was,  du  Faur  refused  to  acquiesce  in  it ;  he  boldly  pro- 
tested against  it,  and  after  a  hard  struggle,  he  was  fortunate  enough 
to  obtain  its  revocation,  and  to  be  re-established  in  his  magisterial 
capacity.  Nor  does  it  appear  that  this  victory  was  purchased  by 
any  sacrifice  of  principle. 

Among  those  who,  during  the  new  crusade  against  Protestants, 
had  to  lament  the  loss  of  liberty,  was  Francis  de  Vendome,  Vidame 
of  Chartres,  allied  to  the  princes  of  the  blood  and  the  potent  house 
of  Montmorenci.  Vendome  had  served  in  Italy,  as  a  volunteer, 
under  the  Duke  of  Aumale,  and  subsequently  held  a  command 
there  under  the  Duke  of  Guise,  after  which  he  was  appointed 
governor  of  Calais.  Closely  connected  with  the  house  of  Mont- 
morenci, he  was  irritated  beyond  measure  by  the  dismissal  of  the 
constable,  and  cherished  a  deadly  animosity  against  the  Guises, 
who  were  the  authors  of  that  measure.  It  is  not  wonderful  that, 
under  the  influence  of  these  feelings,  he  should  make  common 
cause  with  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  the  King  of  Navarre,  who 
were  preparing  for  resistance  to  the  court.  Vendome  took  an 
active  part  in  rousing  the  Protestants  to  arms  in  various  parts  of 
the  kingdom.  But  some  of  his  letters,  to  the  Prince  of  Conde, 
having  been  found  upon  la  Sague,  an  emissary  of  the  Protestant 
party,  he  was  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Bastile.  There  he  was 
treated  with  extreme  rigour,  and  was  refused  permission  to  see 
his  wife,  though  she  offered  to  become  a  prisoner  with  him.  The 
letters  were  in  appearance  merely  complimentary,  but  the  dread 
6 


82  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  the  torture  induced  la  Sague  to  disclose  that  important  secrets 
were  written  with  sympathetic  ink  on  the  cover  that  contained 
them.  The  death  of  Francis  II.  and  the  pretended  reconcilement 
of  the  hostile  parties  on  the  accession  of  Charles  IX.,  would  have 
saved  Vendome  from  the  scaffold,  but  he  did  not  live  to  recover 
his  freedom.  Worn  out  by  a  life  of  dissipation,  he  died  in  his 
thirty-eighth  year,  at  the  Tournelles,  to  which  prison  he  had  been 
removed  from  the  Bastile. 

The  decease  of  Vendome  took  place  in  15GO,  and,  for  several 
years,  with  the  exception  of  the  Duke  of  Lunebourg,  who  was 
imprisoned  for  a  quarrel  with  the  Duke  of  Guise,  no  prisoner,  at 
least  none  whose  fate  history  has  thought  worthy  of  recording, 
appears  to  have  found  an  abode  within  the  walls  of  the  Bastile. 
After  the  horrible  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  there  was  a  mo- 
ment when  the  fortress  seemed  about  to  receive  a  princely  captive. 
The  King  of  Navarre  (afterwards  Henry  IV.)  had  yielded  to  the 
threats  of  the  royal  murderer,  and  had  changed  his  religion  ;  but 
the  Prince  of  Conde  was  made  of  sterner  stuff.  He  resisted  so 
firmly  all  attempts  to  induce  him  to  apostatize,  that  Charles  IX. 
ordered  him  to  be  brought  before  him,  and,  in  a  furious  tone, 
addressed  to  him  three  ominous  words:  "The  mass,  death,  or  the 
Bastile."  Conde  held  out  a  little  longer,  but  he  yielded  when 
he  found  that  du  Rosier,  a  famous  Protestant  minister,  had  been 
converted  to  the  Catholic  faith. 

It  was  not  till  towards  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  IX. 
that  the  Bastile  was  again  tenanted.  That  monarch  was  then 
sinking  rapidly  into  the  grave,  under  the  pressure  of  bodily  dis- 
ease, and  the  perpetual  stings  of  his  conscience.  Haunted  by 
appalling  dreams,  and  by  direful  spectres  and  dismal  sounds, 
which  his  fancy  incessantly  conjured  up,  he  had  fallen  into  a  state 
which  scarcely  the  remembrance  of  his  crimes  can  prevent  us 
from  pitying.  It  was  at  this  period  that  the  party  was  formed 
which  adopted  the  appellations  of  Politicians  and  Malcontents. 
The  first  of  these  names  was  chosen  to  show  that  the  persons 
assuming  it  were  not  actuated,  like  the  Protestants,  by  religious 
motives.  The  oppressive  weight  of  the  taxes,  the  insolent  licen- 
tiousness of  the  soldiery,  and  the  cruelty  and  flagrant  incapacity 
of  those  who  managed  the  public  affairs,  were  their  grounds  of  com- 
plaint. At  the  head  of  this  party,  which  soon  became  consider- 
able, were  William  de  Montmorenci  and  his  nephew,  the  Vis- 
count de  Turenne.  Though  this  party  consisted  of  Catholics,  yet 
as  among  the  objects  which  it  sought  to  obtain  there  were  many 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  83 

which  the  Protestants  no  less  eagerly  desired,  it  was  not  long 
before  a  coalition  was  formed  between  them. 

To  give  greater  weight  and  consistence  to  the  party,  it  was 
thought  advisable  to  provide  for  it  a  chief  of  a  more  elevated  rank 
than  Montmorenci  and  Turenne.  The  Duke  of  Alen^on,  one  of 
the  king's  brothers,  who  is  known  in  English  history  as  the  Duke  of 
Anjou,  was  the  chosen  individual.  With  many  defects,  and  a  scanty 
share  of  virtues,  he  had  some  qualifications  for  being  head  of  the 
party.  To  the  Protestants  he  was  recommended  by  his  being  far 
less  hostile  than  the  rest  of  his  family,  and  by  his  having  been  an 
unalterable  friend  of  the  murdered  Admiral  Coligni.  Alen^on 
was  irritated  by  the  restraint,  little  short  of  imprisonment,  under 
which  he  was  kept  at  court,  and  by  the  refusal  to  confer  on  him 
the  lieutenant-generalship  of  the  kingdom,  which  had  been  held 
by  his  brother  Henry;  and  was  consequently  not  averse  from  join- 
ing those  who  could  contribute  to  gratify  his  ambition.  It  has, 
indeed,  been  supposed,  and  the  supposition  is  by  no  means  im- 
probable, that  the  party,  or  at  least  the  Protestant  branch  of  it, 
would  have  been  willing  to  raise  him  to  the  throne,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  Henry,  his  elder  brother. 

Two  of  the  principal  agents  in  forwarding  the  design  of  the 
malcontents  were  la  Mole,  and  the  Count  de  Coconas,  the  favourites 
of  the  Duke  of  Alen^on.  La  Mole  was  an  officer,  a  native  of 
Province.  Among  the  ladies  of  the  court  he  was  much  admired 
for  his  liveliness  and  companionable  qualities.  His  time  was  di- 
vided, not  quite  equally,  between  sinning  and  hearing  mass;  the 
latter  of  which  he  attended  three  or  four  times  a  day.  It  was 
said  of  him  by  the  king,  that  whoever  wished  to  keep  a  register 
of  la  Mole's  debaucheries,  need  only  reckon  up  his  masses.  He 
was  notoriously  one  of  the  gallants  of  Margaret  of  Valois,  as  Co- 
conas was  of  the  Duchess  of  Nevers,  the  eldest  of  three  sisters, 
who  were  called  the  Graces.  Coconas  was  one  of  the  many 
Italians  who  were  attracted  into  France  by  the  hope  of  receiving 
patronage  from  Catherine  of  Medicis.  One  anecdote  will  suffice 
to  demonstrate  the  fiendishness  of  his  nature.  During  the  mas- 
sacre of  St.  Bartholomew,  he  brought  from  the  populace  thirty 
Huguenot  prisoners,  that  he  might  gratify  himself,  by  subjecting 
them  to  torture  both  of  body  and  mind.  After  having,  by  a  pro- 
mise of  saving  their  lives,  induced  them  to  renounce  their  faith, 
he  put  them  slowly  to  death  by  numerous  superficial  dagger 
wounds.  Of  this  act  he  was  accustomed  to  boast.  The  fate  of 
such  a  man  can  excite  no  pity. 

All  was  arranged  for  the  flight  of  the  Duke  of  Alen^on,  the 


84  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

King  of  Navarre,  and  the  Prince  of  Conde  from  the  court,  in  order 
to  join  the  malcontents,  and  hoist  the  standard  of  opposition. 
Bands  of  troops  were  hovering  round  the  palace  of  St.  Germain, 
to  protect  their  retreat.  But  the  plot  was  disconcerted  by  the 
vigilance  of  Catherine  of  Medicis,  the  imprudence  of  some  of  the 
plotters,  and  the  hesitation  of  the  feeble-minded  duke.  At  two 
in  the  morning,  Catherine  hurried  the  dying  Charles  from  St. 
Germain  to  Paris  in  a  litter,  and  placed  guards  over  the  duke  and 
the  King  of  Navarre;  Conde,  more  prudent  than  his  associates, 
had  embraced  the  first  opportunity  to  escape.  There  was  some 
ludicrous  circumstances  connected  with  the  hasty  retreat  to  Paris. 
"The  Cardinals  of  Bourbon,  Lorrain,and  Guise,"  says  d'Aubigne, 
"the  chancellor  Birague,  and  Morvilliers  and  Bellievre,  were  all 
mounted  on  Italian  coursers,  grasping  with  both  hands  their  sad- 
dle-bows, and  as  thoroughly  frightened  at  their  horses  as  at  the 
enemy."  Contrasting  strongly  with  this  was  the  pitiable  state  of  the 
monarch,  with  his  frame  debilitated,  and  all  the  weight  of  the  St. 
Bartholomew  on  his  soul,  groaning,  and  mournfully  exclaiming, 
"At  least  they  might  have  waited  till  I  was  dead!" 

Indignant  at  what  he  called  a  foul  conspiracy,  the  king  or- 
dered that  a  rigid  inquiry  should  instantly  be  commenced.  La 
Mole  denied  everything;  Coconas,  on  the  contrary,  disclosed  all 
that  he  knew,  and  perhaps  more.  But  the  fate  of  the  conspirators 
was  sealed  by  the  Duke  of  Alen^on,  who  made  an  ample  confes- 
sion, without  even  having  attempted  to  stipulate  for  the  lives  of 
his  confederates.  Coconas  and  la  Mole,  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
Bastile,  were  now  brought  to  trial;  and,  by  dint  of  legal  sophistry, 
the  project  of  bringing  about  the  flight  of  the  princes  was  construed 
into  a  design  against  the  person  of  the  king. 

Coconas  and  la  Mole  were  condemned  to  be  put  to  the  torture 
and  then  beheaded.  "  Poor  la  Mole !"  exclaimed  the  latter,  while 
he  was  suffering  the  first  part  of  his  sentence,  "  is  there  no  way 
to  obtain  a  pardon?  The  duke,  my  master,  to  whom  I  owe  innu- 
merable obligations,  commanded  me  on  my  life  to  say  nothing  of 
what  he  was  about  to  do.  I  answered,  Yes,  sir,  if  you  do  nothing 
against  the  king."  The  unfortunate  man,  like  vast  numbers  at 
that  period,  had  faith  in  magic  arts.  A  waxen  image,  of  which 
the  heart  was  pierced  through  with  a  needle,  had  been  found 
among  his  effects.  On  being  questioned  whether  this  was  not 
meant  to  represent  the  king,  and  to  be  an  instrument  of  tormenting 
his  majesty,  he  replied  that  its  only  purpose  was  to  inspire  love 
in  a  lady  of  whom  he  was  deeply  enamoured. 

On  the  scaffold,  before  he  laid  down  his  head  on  the  block,  he 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  85 

significantly  said  to  the  bystanders,  "  You  see,  sirs,  that  the  little 
ones  are  caught,  and  that  the  great  ones,  who  have  been  guilty  of 
the  fault,  are  allowed  to  escape."  La  Mole  displayed  his  ruling 
passion  strong  in  death.  His  last  words,  after  having  prayed  to 
God  and  the  Virgin,  were  "Commend  me  to  the  kind  remembrance 
of  the  Queen  of  Navarre  and  the  ladies."  He  was  not  forgotten 
by  his  lady-love;  neither  was  his  companion.  Queen  Margaret 
and  the  Duchess  of  Nevers  are  said  by  some  to  have  embalmed 
the  heads  of  their  admirers,  that  they  might  always  preserve 
them  for  contemplation ;  while  by  others  they  are  asserted  to  have 
taken  them  in  a  carriage  to  a  chapel,  at  the  foot  of  Montmartre, 
and  buried  them  with  their  own  hands.  Two  years  afterwards, 
the  sentences  against  la  Mole  and  Coconas  were  annulled  by  Henry 

The  abortive  plot  in  favour  of  the  Duke  of  Alencon  proved  a 
source  of  trouble  to  two  individuals,  more  eminent  in  rank,  and 
far  more  estimable  in  character,  than  were  la  Mole  and  Coconas. 
The  marshals  Francis  de  Montmorenci,  and  Arthur  de  Cosse,  the 
former  of  whom  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  celebrated  constable, 
were  suspected,  or  pretended  to  be  so,  by  the  queen-mother ; 
Montmorenci  was  also  well  known  to  feel  that  hatred  of  the  Guises 
which  was  characteristic  of  his  family.  At  her  suggestion,  there- 
fore, they  were  committed  to  the  Bastile,  by  Charles  IX.  This 
was  nearly  the  last  exercise  of  his  authority.  He  died  about  a 
fortnight  after,  leaving  his  mother  to  hold  the  office  of  regent,  till 
his  successor,  the  third  Henry,  could  return  from  Poland. 

Montmorenci  was  the  husband  of  Diana,  the  natural  daughter 
of  Henry  II.,  and  had  been  employed  on  numerous  occasions,  civil 
and  military,  in  all  of  which  he  had  honourably  acquitted  himself. 
Of  his  martial  exploits  the  most  prominent  was  the  brave  though 
unsuccessful  defence  of  Terouane.  He  was  liberal,  high-minded, 
learned,  firm,  and  of  invariable  rectitude.  Cosse  was  still  more 
illustrious  in  arms  than  his  fellow-prisoner.  He  had  distinguished 
himself  at  various  sieges,  particularly  those  of  Sens  and  Metz,  and 
in  the  battle  of  St.  Denis,  and  many  other  encounters.  Nor  was 
he  a  mere  enterprizing  soldier.  It  is  said  of  him,  by  cotemporary 
historians,  and  it  is  no  light  praise,  "  that  his  head  was  as  good  as 
his  arm." 

The  party  which  had  hitherto  been  known  as  that  of  the  Poli- 
ticians now  took  the  name  of  the  Third  Party.  It  received  a 
large  increase,  by  the  junction  of  Catholics,  whose  indignation 
was  excited  by  the  constraint  put  upon  the  Duke  of  Alencon  and 
the  King  of  Navarre,  at  Vincennes,  and  the  close  imprisonment  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

two  such  eminent  men  as  de  Montmorenci  and  de  Cosse.  Conde, 
too,  was  busy  in  Germany,  stirring  up  the  Protestant  princes  to 
succour  his  friends,  and  keeping  up  a  continual  correspondence 
with  the  French  Calvinists. 

,  On  his  taking  possession  of  the  throne,  Henry  set  at  liberty  the 
King  of  Navarre  and  the  Duke  of  Alen^on.  The  marshals,  how- 
ever, were  still  retained  in  confinement.  Diana,  the  wife  of  Mont- 
morenci, had  adopted  a  singular  mode  of  moving  in  her  husband's 
behalf  the  feelings  of  the  monarch.  Dressed  in  deep  mourning, 
and  followed  by  all  her  female  attendants  in  the  same  garb,  she 
met  Henry  as  he  was  passing  through  the  street,  fell  at  his  feet, 
and  entreated  him  to  take  compassion  on  her  husband,  whose 
health  was  declining  in  a  prison,  into  which  he  had  been  thrown 
without  being  convicted,  or  so  much  as  accused,  of  any  crime. 
She  likewise  forcibly  urged  that,  even  if  his  majesty  supposed 
him  to  be  guilty,  he  ought  to  grant  him  a  fair  trial.  The  king 
seemed  to  be  affected  by  her  appeal,  which  was  backed  by  some 
of  the  nobles  who  were  present ;  and  he  promised  to  inquire  into 
the  business  with  as  little  delay  as  possible. 

The  promise  of  the  king,  however,  if  sincere  at  the  moment, 
was  soon  disregarded.  Cosse,  who,  like  his  fellow  captive,  was 
suffering  from  bad  health,  was,  indeed,  allowed  to  take  up  his 
abode  in  his  own  house,  under  a  guard;  but  the  only  deliverance 
which  was  destined  for  Montmorenci  was  deliverance  from  all 
the  troubles  of  this  world.  It  appears,  in  fact,  that  his  life  would 
not  have  been  safe  for  a  moment,  but  for  the  salutary  fear  that  his 
death  would  drive  into  open  hostility  his  brother  Damville,  who 
held  the  government  of  Languedoc.  A  report  having  been  spread 
that  Damville  was  dead,  the  king  resolved  to  have  the  marshal 
strangled  in  prison,  and,  as  a  preliminary  step,  it  was  industriously 
given  out  that  he  was  subject  to  apoplectic  attacks.  This  barbar- 
ous and  cowardly  scheme  would  have  been  carried  into  effect, 
had  not  an  obstacle  occurred.  Giles  de  Souvre,  who  had  been 
mistakenly  selected  to  perform  the  assassin's  part,  chanced  to  be 
a  more  honest  man  than  his  royal  master,  and  he  purposely  in- 
terposed so  many  delays,  that  time  was  afforded  to  ascertain  the 
falsehood  of  the  report  which  had  announced  the  death  of  Dam- 
ville. 

It  was  neither  to  the  clemency  nor  the  justice  of  his  sovereign 
that  Montmorenci  was  ultimately  indebted  for  the  recovery  of  his 
freedom.  Endangered  by  the  betrayal  of  a  plot  into  which  he 
had  entered  against  his  brother,  Alen^on  mustered  up  courage 
enough  to  run  away.  His  flight  took  place  on  the  16th  of  Sep- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  87 

tember,  1575.  As  soon  as  he  was  in  safety  at  Dreux,  he  issued 
a  manifesto,  not  unartfully  contrived,  to  gain  partisans  in  various 
quarters.  Reform  in  every  department  was  the  templing  burden 
of  its  song.  It  worked  its  intended  effect;  the  Protestants  were 
in  raptures,  the  Third  Party  was  satisfied  with  it,  and  he  speedily 
found  himself  in  a  situation  to  set  the  court  at  defiance. 

William,  one  of  the  brothers  of  Montmorenci,  whom  we  have 
seen  one  of  the  original  chiefs  of  the  Politicians,  was  now  about 
to  enter  the  French  territory  at  the  head  of  a  division  of  troops, 
designed  to  herald  the  way  to  the  army  which  the  Prince  of  Conde 
had  succeeded  in  obtaining  from  the  Elector  Palatine.  In  the 
first  outbreak  of  her  anger,  on  hearing  this  news,  the  queen  mother 
sent  him  word,  that  if  he  dared  to  advance  she  would  despatch  to 
him  the  heads  of  the  two  marshals.  His  reply  was,  "  Should  the 
queen  do  as  she  threatens,  there  is  nothing  of  hers  in  France  on 
which  I  will  not  leave  the  marks  of  my  revenge." 

Menace  having  failed,  the  wily  Catherine  resorted  to  an  oppo- 
site mode  of  proceeding.  Aware  that  the  liberation  of  the  two 
marshals  would  be  imperatively  demanded  by  their  armed  friends, 
and  that  the  king  was  too  weak  to  refuse  it,  she  determined  to  try 
whether  she  could  not  secure  their  gratitude  by  appearing  to 
have  the  merit  of  voluntarily  releasing  them.  They  were  accord- 
ingly restored  to  liberty.  By  a  declaration,  under  the  royal  seal, 
Montmorenci  was  pronounced  to  be  "absolutely  innocent  of  the 
crime  which  had  been  laid  to  his  charge."  When  a  similar  ex- 
culpatory document  was  offered  to  Cosse  by  the  king,  he  chival- 
rously replied,  "  Excuse  me,  sire,  for  declining  it ;  a  Cosse  ought 
to  think  that  no  one  can  believe  him  to  be  guilty." 

Though  they  could  not  be  ignorant  of  the  motive  which  had 
induced  Catherine  to  throw  open  their  prison  doors,  the  marshals 
acted  as  if  a  favour  had  really  been  granted  to  them.  Montmo- 
renci had  the  largest  share  in  bringing  about  the  truce,  and  the 
subsequent  treaty  between  the  king  and  the  Duke  of  Alen^on; 
and  the  loyalty  of  Cosse  was  considered  to  be  so  unimpeachable 
that,  in  1578,  he  received  the  order  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Mont- 
morenci died  in  1579;  Cosse  in  1582. 

The  principal  favourite  of  the  Duke  of  Alen^on,  after  the  death 
of  la  Mole  and  Coconas,  was  Louis  de  Clermont,  better  known 
by  the  appellation  of  Bussy  d'Amboise.  In  profligacy  he  went 
beyond  his  predecessors.  He  seems  to  have  been  a  compound  of 
vices,  without  a  single  virtue;  unless,  indeed,  we  may  give  the 
name  of  virtue  to  mere  brutal  courage.  Full  of  pride  and  inso- 
lence, eager  to  involve  others  in  deadly  quarrels,  a  libertine,  a  pro- 


88  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

fessed  duellist,  and  a  cold-blooded  assassin,  his  being  tolerated  at 
the  French  court,  and  even  admired  by  many  persons,  is  an 
irrefutable  evidence  of  the  wretched  state  of  morals  among  the 
nobility  of  France.  Bravery  must  have  been  held  in  a  sort  of 
idolatrous  estimation,  when  respect  for  it  could  induce  such  a  man 
as  Crillon  to  be  the  friend  of  d'Amboise. 

The  first  achievement  which  Bussy  is  known  to  have  performed 
stamps  his  name  with  infamy.  He  was  engaged  in  a  law-suit 
against  the  Marquis  of  Renel,  one  of  his  relations,  to  recover  from 
him  the  marquisate,  which  Bussy  claimed  as  his  right.  The 
marquis  had  come  to  Paris,  with  the  King  of  Navarre,  and  was 
there  when  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  took  place.  In  the 
midst  of  the  carnage,  Bussy  sought  him  out  and  stabbed  him  to 
the  heart.  The  parliament,  soon  after,  passed  a  decree,  admitting 
the  murderer's  claim ;  but  it  is  consolatory  to  find  that  the  decree 
was  subsequently  annulled. 

Having  attached  himself  to  the  Duke  of  Alen^on,  he  was  en- 
trusted with  the  government  of  the  castle  of  Angers,  and  he  soon 
made  himself  universally  hated,  by  his  extortion  and  tyranny. 
When  he  visited  the  court  with  his  master,  his  arrogance  and 
audacity  rose  to  such  a  height  that  the  king's  favourites,  whom 
he  had  often  insulted,  at  length  formed  a  scheme  to  assassinate 
him.  The  attack  was  made  at  night,  and  with  superior  numbers ; 
but  it  was  foiled  by  the  skill  and  resolution  of  Bussy  and  his  fol- 
lowers. 

The  monarch  himself  was  not  safe  from  the  contemptuous  sar- 
casms of  Bussy.  In  their  dress,  Henry  and  his  minions  carried 
to  the  most  extravagant  length  the  costly  and  absurd  fashions  of 
that  period.  Bussy  one  day  attended  his  patron  to  court.  He 
himself  was  simply  dressed,  but  he  was  followed  by  six  pages, 
clad  in  cloth  of  gold,  and  tricked  out  in  the  most  approved  style 
of  finery.  That  the  point  of  this  silent  satire  might  not  be  lost, 
he  insultingly  proclaimed  aloud,  that  "the  time  was  come  when 
ragamuffins  would  make  the  most  show!"  The  king  was  so  irri- 
tated by  this  language,  that,  for  a  while,  the  duke  was  obliged  to 
forbid  Bussy  from  appearing  in  his  train. 

About  the  same  time,  Bussy  gave  fresh  cause  of  offence  to  the 
king.  Ever  seeking  an  opportunity  to  indulge  his  passion  for 
duelling,  he  had  wantonly  quarreled  with  a  gentleman  named  St. 
Phal.  Looking  at  some  embroidery,  St.  Phal  remarked  that  the 
letter  X  was  worked  on  it ;  Bussy,  from  sheer  contradiction,  as- 
serted that  the  letter  was  a  Y.  A  duel  of  six  against  six  in  con- 
sequence took  place,  and  Bussy  was  slightly  wounded.  As,  how- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  89 

ever,  Bussy  sent  his  antagonist  a  second  challenge,  and  expressed 
a  stubborn  determination  to  follow  up  the  quarrel  to  the  last  ex- 
tremity, the  king  interposed  to  put  an  end  to  it.  Bussy  reluc- 
tantly consented  to  meet  St.  Phal,  in  the  king's  presence,  for  the 
purpose  of  reconcilement,  and  when,  with  that  intent,  he  went  to 
the  Louvre,  he  was  accompanied  into  the  palace  by  a  band  of  two 
hundred  determined  partisans.  The  anger  of  the  king  was  ex- 
cited by  this  irruption  of  bravoes,  but  for  the  present  he  restrained 
it. 

In  one  of  those  fits  of  suspecting  his  brother,  with  which  Henry 
was  occasionally  seized,  he  went  by  night  to  put  him  under  arrest, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  he  sent  Bussy  to  the  Bastile.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  a  council  was  held,  at  which,  prompted  by  the 
queen  mother,  the  ministers  declared  that  t&e  step  which  the  king 
had  taken  was  impolitic,  and  advised  him  to  be  reconciled  with 
the  duke.  Henry  consented.  The  only  stipulation  which  he 
made  was,  that  Bussy,  on  being  liberated,  should  be  reconciled 
to  Caylus,  the  king's  favourite,  with  whom  he  was  at  enmity. 
Bussy  complied,  and,  in  complying,  contrived  to  throw  ridicule 
on  the  weak  monarch.  "Sire,"  said  he,  "if  you  wish  me  to  kiss 
him,  I  am  quite  ready  to  do  it;"  then,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  he  embraced  Caylus  in  such  a  thoroughly  farcical  style, 
that  the  spectators  were  unable  to  repress  their  laughter. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  libertinism  of  Bussy  supplied  Henry 
with  the  means  of  destroying  him.  It  is  probable  that,  in  his 
amours,  the  pleasure  of  betraying  the  women  who  confided  in 
him  formed  one  of  the  greatest  inducements  to  pursue  them — a 
base  feeling  which  is  still  prevalent.  In  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of 
Anjou,  he  boasted  that  he  had  been  spreading  his  nets  for  the 
Great  Huntsman's  beast,  and  that  he  held  her  fast  in  them.  The 
Great  Huntsman  was  the  Count  de  Montsoreau,  who  held  that 
office;  the  beast,  as  she  was  politely  called,  was  the  count's  wife, 
whom  the  profligate  writer  had  seduced.  This  letter  Anjou  put 
into  the  king's  hands,  as  a  good  jest.  Henry  kept  it,  and  com- 
municated it  to  the  count,  whom  he  urged  to  revenge  himself  on 
the  offender.  Montsoreau  was  not  backward  to  follow  the  king's 
advice.  He  hurried  home,  and  compelled  his  wife  to  write  to 
Bussy,  to  make  an  assignation  with  him.  Bussy  was  true  to  the 
appointment.  Instead,  however,  of  meeting  the  countess,  he  was 
attacked  by  Montsoreau  and  several  men,  all  of  whom  wore  coats 
of  mail.  In  spite  of  the  odds  against  him,  he  fought  for  some 
time  with  determined  spirit;  but,  finding  that  he  must  eventually 
be  overpowered,  he  tried  to  escape  through  the  window,  and  was 


90  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

slain  by  a  stab  in  the  back.  "  The  whole  province,"  says  de 
Thou,  "  was  delighted  at  his  fall,  and  even  the  Duke  of  Anjou 
was  not  very  sorry  to  be  rid  of  a  man  who  began  to  be  a  burden 
to  him." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Reign  of  Henry  HI.  continued  — Conspiracy  of  Salcede. — Francis  de  Rosieres. 
— Peter  de  Belloy. — Francis  le  Breton. — Bernard  Palissy. — Daring  plots  of  the 
League. — Henry  III.  expelled  from  Paris. — The  Bastile  surrenders  to  Guise. 
— Bussi  le  Clerc  appointed  governor. — Damours. — James  de  la  Guesle. — 
Reign  of  Henry  IV. — Members  of  the  Parliament  arrested. — President  de 
Harlay. — Potier  de  Blancmesnil. — The  family  of  Seguier. — Speeches  of 
Henry  IV. — Louis  Seguier. — James  Gillot. — Outrage  committed  by  the  Coun- 
cil of  Sixteen. — It  is  punished  by  the  Duke  of  Mayenne. — Henry  IV.  enters 
Paris. — Surrender  of  the  Bastile. — Du  Bourg. — Treasure  deposited  in  the 
Bastile  by  Henry. 

IT  was  a  conspiracy  against  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  and  the  King 
of  France,  that  brought  the  next  prisoner  of  importance  to  the 
Bastile.  This  conspiracy  originated  with  the  Guises,  was  pro- 
moted by  that  great  artisan  of  mischief  Philip  the  Second  of 
Spain,  and  contained  the  seminal  principle  of  the  subsequent  war, 
which  is  known  as  the  war  of  the  League.  The  agent  employed 
in  carrying  it  on  was  Nicholas  Salcede,  a  man  of  daring  and  pro- 
fligate character,  whose  father,  a  Spanish  gentleman,  the  governor 
of  Vic,  in  Lorraine,  having  offended  the  Guises,  was  slain,  though 
he  was  a  Catholic,  in  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  By  dint, 
however,  of  heaping  favours  and  attentions  on  him,  the  Guises, 
to  whom,  indeed,  he  was  distantly  related,  soon  induced  Salcede 
to  forget  the  murder  of  his  parent.  By  a  crowning  act  of  kind- 
ness, they,  in  some  measure,  acquired  a  right  to  his  services. 
Counterfeiting  the  king's  coin,  as  well  as  that  of  foreign  states, 
was  a  crime  which,  for  a  long  series  of  years,  was  of  common 
occurrence  in  France  among  persons  of  rank.  The  punishment 
of  throwing  them  into  boiling  oil  was  insufficient  to  deter  them; 
for  it  was  so  often  evaded  that  it  ceased  to  create  terror.  Salcede 
had  carried  the  practice  of  coining  to  such  an  extent  as  to  be  able 
to  purchase  an  estate.  Being  detected,  he  was  summoned  to  take 
his  trial  at  Rouen,  and,  as  he  prudently  refused  to  appear,  sen- 
tence of  death  was  passed  upon  him  as  a  contumacious  criminal. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  91 

But  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  interceded  for  him,  and  his  pardon  was 
granted.  This,  and  the  prospect  of  honours  and  rewards,  linked 
him  firmly  to  the  Guises. 

The  Duke  of  Anjou  was,  at  this  period,  struggling  to  acquire 
the  sovereignty  of  the  Netherlands,  and  under  his  banner  were 
arrayed  an  immense  number  of  the  French  nobles.  To  the  mem- 
bers of  the  house  of  Lorraine  he  was  inveterately  hostile  ;  for  he 
looked  upon  them  as  his  personal  enemies,  and  as  having  been 
authors  of  the  many  mortifications  which  he  had  undergone.  To 
prevent  him  from  entering  France,  for  the  purpose  of  succouring 
his  brother  Henry,  was,  therefore,  an  object  of  primary  import- 
ance ;  as,  if  that  were  not  attained,  their  project  of  dethroning  the 
king,  or  at  least  becoming  viceroys  over  him,  could  scarcely  hope 
for  success.  Morality  was,  in  those  days,  at  so  low  an  ebb  among 
the  great,  that  it  is  probable  the  Guises  would  have  felt  but  few 
scruples  in  accomplishing  their  purpose  by  the  death  of  the  duke; 
though,  avowedly,  their  sole  aim  was  to  shut  him  out  of  France, 
by  closing  against  him  the  northern  frontier  and  the  ports  of 
Brittany. 

The  daring  spirit  and  desperate  situation  of  Salcede — for  he 
was  deeply  involved  in  debt — pointed  him  out  to  the  Guises  as  a 
fit  instrument.  The  Duke  of  Guise  tempted  him  by  a  solemn  as- 
surance, that  the  King  of  Spain  would  reward  him  with  rank  and 
occupation  proportioned  to  the  magnitude  of  his  services  ;  and  he 
backed  his  arguments  and  promises  by  descanting  on  the  benefit 
which  the  Catholic  religion  would  derive  from  ruining  the  Duke 
of  Anjou.  His  eloquence  prevailed,  and  Salcede  unreluctantly 
devoted  himself  to  the  furtherance  of  the  treasonable  scheme. 

It  was  arranged,  that  the  Guises  should  secretly  furnish  funds 
for  raising  a  regiment,  to  be  commanded  by  Salcede,  and  that  he 
should  then  proceed  to  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  and  offer  to  bring  to 
his  banner  a  chosen  body  of  men,  who  would  engage  to  remain 
under  it  for  several  months.  No  doubt  was  entertained  that,  as 
the  duke  was  scantily  provided  with  money,  was,  in  consequence, 
daily  deserted  by  some  of  his  troops,  and  had  no  great  confidence 
in  the  Belgians,  he  would  gladly  accept  this  offer;  and  would 
either  intrust  the  new  corps  with  the  keeping  of  some  important 
fortress,  or  reserve  it  as  a  guard  for  his  own  person.  In  either 
case,  the  conspirators  could  turn  the  circumstance  to  account. 
The  seizure  of  Dunkirk  and  Cambray  \vas  the  main  point  to 
which  Salcede's  attention  was  to  be  directed;  but  he  was  also  to 
do  his  best  to  shake  the  fidelity  of  Anjou's  officers,  and,  of  course, 
was  to  act  as  spy  for  the  Spanish  monarch.  The  Prince  of  Parma, 


S2  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

meanwhile,  was  gradually  to  approach  Calais,  the  government  of 
which  town,  it  is  said,  had  promised  to  betray  his  trust.  The 
sudden  loss  of  Calais  would,  it  was  imagined,  so  terrify  Henry, 
that  he  would  give  the  supreme  command  of  his  forces  to  the 
Duke  of  Guise;  the  French  accomplices  of  the  Guises  would  then 
rise  in  arms ;  and  the  plan  of  subverting  the  government  would 
be  easily  executed. 

As  had  been  expected,  the  proposal  of  Salcede  was  listened  to 
with  much  pleasure  by  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  who  treated  him  as  a 
valuable  friend.  The  duke  was  as  yet  ignorant  that  the  conspi- 
rator had  been  reconciled  to  the  Guises.  Nor  was  he  aware  that, 
in  his  way  to  Bruges,  Salcede  had  visited  the  enemy's  camp,  had 
a  conference  with  the  Prince  of  Parma,  the  viceroy,  and  been 
accompanied  to  Bruges  by  two  of  the  prince's  agents.  But  the 
sharp-sighted  Prince  of  Orange  was  not  disposed  to  grant  his  con- 
fidence to  the  new-comer  so  readily  as  the  duke;  he  disliked  and 
suspected  him,  both  as  being  in  his  origin  a  Spaniard,  and  as 
having  been  found  guilty  of  an  infamous  offence.  The  inquiries 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange  elicited  sufficient  evidence  to  justify  his 
suspicion  that  Salcede  had  sinister  designs,  and  he,  therefore, 
advised  the  duke  to  arrest  him.  This  advice  was  followed  by 
Anjou,  who  had  already  learned,  from  another  quarter,  that  his 
pretended  partisan  was  connected  with  the  Guises.  Salcede  was 
accordingly  arrested  on  his  coming  to  the  palace.  The  two  agents 
of  the  Prince  of  Parma  were  waiting  at  the  palace  gate  for  their 
confederate's  return;  one  of  them  escaped,  the  other,  Francis 
Baza  by  name,  was  seized  and  committed  to  prison.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  Baza  put  an  end  to  his  existence. 

In  the  first  examination,  mysterious  hints  were  all  that  could 
be  drawn  from  Salcede;  in  the  second,  he  spontaneously  disclosed 
so  complicated  and  gigantic  a  conspiracy  that  his  hearers  were 
astounded.  That  part  of  it  which  related  to  Belgium  and  the 
Duke  of  Anjou  was  the  smallest  part ;  a  mere  episode  in  the  Gui- 
sian  Iliad.  The  conspirators  purposed  nothing  less  than  to  impri- 
son the  King  of  France,  exterminate  the  royal  family,  and  subject 
the  kingdom  to  the  domination  of  Spain.  Their  means  Salcede 
stated  to  be  immense.  As  implicated  in  the  plot,  he  named  a 
multitude  of  the  most  powerful  nobles,  a  majority  of  the  governors 
of  provinces  and  towns,  and  even  some  of  the  king's  ministers 
and  favourites.  The  provinces  of  Picardy,  Champagne,  Bur- 
gundy, Brittany,  and  the  Cotentin,  were,  he  said,  secured  by 
the  plotters;  nor  would  foreign  aid  be  wanting,  as  the  papal 
and  Piedmontese  troops  were  to  enter  France  on  the  side  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BA  STILE. 

Lyons,  while  two  Spanish  armies  were  to  pass  the  Pyrenees  into 
Beam  and  Gascony,  where  the  malcontents  were  in  readiness  to 
receive  them.  This  deposition,  after  a  lapse  of  some  days,  he 
voluntarily  repeated  and  enlarged,  and  he  offered  to  prove  it,  by 
being  confronted  with  three  persons  whom  he  had  before  men- 
tioned, and  who,  he  was  convinced,  would  confess  that  he  had 
spoken  but  the  truth. 

This  disclosure  was  of  too  much  importance  to  Henry  of  France 
to  admit  of  delay  in  making  .it  known  to  him.  The  Duke  of 
Anjou  accordingly  dispatched  one  of  his  chamberlains  to  Paris, 
with  the  depositions,  and  a  letter,  in  which  the  Guises  were  not 
spared.  At  first,  Henry  was  startled  at  the  seeming  danger;  but 
his  natural  dislike  of  business,  and  his  love  of  pleasure,  soon  in- 
duced him  to  take  refuge  in  the  idea  that  the  whole  was  an  inven- 
tion of  some  one  who  wished  to  disturb  his  quiet,  or  a  stratagem 
of  his  brother  to  obtain  liberal  succours.  Not  so  thought  his  min- 
ister Bellievre,  in  whom  he  placed  great  confidence.  While  the 
minister  perused  the  paper,  the  changes  in  his  countenance 
plainly  showed  that  he  thought  the  plot  was  real,  and  the  peril 
from  it  extreme.  It  was  at  length  settled,  that  Bellievre,  accom- 
panied by  Brulart,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  state,  should  proceed 
to  Bruges,  interrogate  Salcede,  and  require  that  the  criminal 
should  be  transferred  to  Paris.  "  If,"  said  the  king,  "  my  brother 
consents  to  the  transfer,  I  shall  believe  that  a  conspiracy  exists." 

When  Bellievre  questioned  him,  Salcede,  for  the  third  time,  re- 
peated his  story.  He  was  now  conveyed  to  France,  and  placed 
in  the  castle  of  Vincennes ;  the  Duke  of  Anjou  having  readily 
acceded  to  the  wish  of  his  brother.  When,  however,  he  was 
brought  before  the  king  in  council,  he  disavowed  all  that  he  had 
previously  said.  His  confession  had,  he  affirmed,  been  dictated 
to  him  by  three  persons  in  the  duke's  service,  who  compelled  him 
to  write  it.  "  Why,  then,  did  you  say  the  same  to  Bellievre, 
when  those  persons  were  absent?"  inquired  the  king.  To  this  the 
unblushing  prisoner  answered,  that  Bellievre  had  intimidated  him 
by  threats^  and  that  he  had  always  been  under  the  influence  of 
terror  while  he  was  in  the  ducal  palace.  Bellievre  was  a  man 
remarkable  for  patience  and  politeness,  but  he  was  so  provoked 
by  this  charge,  that  he  could  not  forbear  from  exclaiming,  "  You 
are  an  impudent  slanderer."  At  the  close  of  the  examination, 
Salcede  was  removed  to  the  Bastile.  There  he  was  again  exa- 
mined, and  there  he  persisted  in  his  disavowal. 

It  now  became  a  question  what  should  be  done  with  Salcede. 
The  president  de  Thou  advised  that  he  should  be  retained  in  pri- 


94  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

son.  He  urged  that,  if  the  conspiracy  were  real,  his  detention 
would  intimidate  his  accomplices,  and  afford  the  means  of  con- 
victing them  in  case  of  need ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  con- 
spiracy were  only  a  calumny,  invented  by  turbulent  and  ill-dis- 
posed persons,  the  existence  of  the  criminal  might  serve  to  justify 
the  innocence  of  those  whom  he  had  accused.  His  son,  the  cele- 
brated historian,  tells  us,  that  the  president  had  an  additional  mo- 
tive in  thus  advising;  he  wished  not  merely  to  hold  the  conspira- 
tors in  check,  by  preserving  the  evidence  of  their  guilt,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  to  keep  before  the  king's  eyes  a  memento  of  the  danger 
to  which  he  exposed  himself  by  his  unbridled  licentiousness,  and 
his  oppressive  misgovernment. 

This  prudent  counsel  was,  however,  strenuously  opposed.  It 
was  contended  that,  in  whatever  light  the  question  was  viewed,  the 
culprit  ought  to  die.  Supposing  the  plot  to  be  a  reality,  his  death 
would  terrify  his  associates ;  his  being  suffered  to  live  might  drive 
them  to  rebellion  through  despair.  If,  on  the  contrary,  his  tale 
were  false,  death  ought  to  punish  the  calumny;  and  the  more  so 
because,  if  impunity  were  granted  to  him,  resentment,  at  being 
unjustly  suspected,  might  provoke  innocent  persons  to  become 
really  criminal. 

The  motive  which  prompted  many  to  insist  on  the  latter  mode 
of  proceeding  cannot  be  mistaken;  they  were  pleading  for  their 
own  lives,  or  the  lives  of  their  friends.  The  weakness  of  their 
reasoning  is  so  evident  as  to  need  no  exposure.  It  was  not  by 
stifling  inquiry  that  the  monarch  could  hope  to  neutralize  or  con- 
vert his  enemies.  History  does,  indeed,  record  instances  where 
it  was  wise  as  well  as  generous  to  throw  the  veil  of  oblivion  over 
an  incipient  plot,  and  save  the  plotters  from  the  necessity  of  be- 
coming open  rebels ;  but  this  was  not  a  case  of  the  kind.  The 
plotters  against  Henry  were  irreclaimable,  and,  ascribing  his  con- 
duct to  fear  and  not  to  mildness,  would  only  be  encouraged  to 
persist  in  their  destructive  projects.  When  justice  has  pro- 
nounced upon  the  criminal,  then  is  the  time  for  a  sovereign  to 
show  mercy;  and  if  he  have  a  humane  heart,  he  will  set  no  other 
bounds  to  his  clemency  than  those  which  are  imperatively  pre- 
scribed by  the  safety  of  the  state.  But  he  who  shrinks  from 
prosecuting  a  traitor  offers  a  premium  for  the  growth  of  treason. 

Henry,  nevertheless,  decided  otherwise.  He  adopted  the  opin- 
ion of  those  who  were  for  sending  Salcede  to  the  scaffold.  In 
thus  following  their  insidious  advice,  he  was  not  influenced  by 
principle  or  mistaken  policy ;  he  was  mainly  actuated  by  a  child- 
ish impatience,  an  eagerness  to  get  rid  of  a  disagreeable  subject, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  95 

which  interrupted  his  contemptible  pleasures.  Like  the  stupid 
bird,  which  hopes  to  baffle  its  pursuers  by  hiding  its  head,  he 
seems  to  have  thought  that  if  danger  were  out  of  sight  it  could 
not  reach  him.  He  had,  however,  another  and  an  equally  mean 
reason  for  his  decision ;  the  wish  to  mortify  de  Thou.  The  pre- 
sident had  recently  offended  him  by  a  virtuous  and  truly  loyal  act. 
Dreading  the  effect  which  would  be  produced  by  the  king's  in- 
cessant edicts  to  extort  money,  he  implored  him  to  pause,  lest 
poverty  and  despair  should  drive  the  people  to  resistance.  Instead 
of  profiting  by  this  patriotic  warning,  Henry  turned  round  to  his 
train  of  flatterers,  and  sneeringly  exclaimed,  "  The  poor  man  is  in 
a  state  of  dotage  !"  He  was  righteously  punished  for  his  scorn  of 
honest  and  prudent  counsel.  Ere  many  years  had  gone  by,  he 
was  taught  to  lament  with  tears  the  loss  of  this  doting  magistrate, 
and  to  confess  that,  had  de  Thou  lived,  Paris  would  never  have 
revolted. 

Salcede  was  brought  to  trial.  Everything  that  could  throw 
light  on  the  fact  of  the  conspiracy  was  studiously  suppressed ; 
there  was  no  search  for  evidence  relative  to  it,  no  examination  and 
confronting  of  the  persons  who  had  been  charged  by  the  prisoner. 
The  sole  object  was  to  obtain  a  sentence  of  death  against  the  man 
whose  existence  might  prove  fatal  to  the  conspirators.  That  ob- 
ject was  accomplished  on  the  25th  of  October,  1582.  Salcede 
was  pronounced  guilty  of  high  treason,  and  was  condemned  to  be 
torn  into  quarters  by  four  horses  ;  his  quarters  were  to  be  placed 
on  gibbets,  at  the  principal  gates  of  Paris,  and  his  head  was  to  be 
sent  to  Antwerp,  to  be  exposed  in  a  similar  manner.  Immediately 
previous  to  his  execution,  he  was  likewise  to  be  put  to  the  torture  ; 
this  was  a  supererogatory  act  of  cruelty,  for,  even  if  we  admit  the 
possibility  of  justifying  the  use  of  torture,  its  infliction  in  this  in- 
stance could  answer  no  useful  purpose.  It  was  decreed,  also,  by 
his  judges,  that  "  his  confessions,  the  private  letters  found  on  him, 
and  the  declarations  which  he  had  made  since  the  commencement 
of  his  trial,  should  be  burnt  to  ashes ;  as  having  been  malignantly 
and  calumniously  invented,  to  prejudice  the  honour  of  various 
princes,  nobles,  and  other  persons."  Here  is  the  key  to  the  whole 
proceeding. 

"  Light  dies  before  thy  uncreating  word  ! 
Thy  hand,  great  anarch,  lets  the  curtain  fall, 
And  universal  darkness  buries  all." 

The  king  was  sufficiently  devoid  of  feeling  to  witness,  behind 
a  curtain,  the  torturing  of  the  prisoner,  and  to  go  to  the  Town  Hall, 
to  see  executed  the  ferocious  and  sickening  sentence,  which  con- 


96  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


demned  a  fellow-being  to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  horses.  But,  even 
in  that  corrupt  and  serni-barbarous  age,  there  were  not  wanting 
persons  who  passed  a  severe  censure  on  Henry,  for  conduct  which 
was  disgraceful  to  him  as  a  king  and  a  man. 

When  the  torture  was  applied,  Salcede  again  veered  about ;  he 
reasserted  the  whole  of  what  he  had  originally  stated,  with  respect 
to  the  conspiracy.  This  blow  was,  however,  adroitly  parried  by 
those  whom  it  might  otherwise  have  injured.  As  he  was  passing 
up  a  dark  staircase,  after  having  been  tortured,  he  was  joined  by 
a  priest,  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  who  exhorted  him  to  retract  his 
confession  once  more.  This  ghostly  adviser  no  doubt  worked 
powerfully  on  his  hopes  and  fears,  with  regard  to  another  world, 
and  he  succeeded  in  prevailing  on  him  to  make  a  new  retracta- 
tion. As  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  varying  in  his  story,  he 
persisted  in  this  retractation,  and,  at  the  place  of  execution,  he 
loudly  extolled  the  virtues,  and  proclaimed  the  innocence,  of  his 
patrons,  the  Guises.  He  lived  a  villain,  and  he  died  a  self-con- 
victed liar. 

In  the  following  year,  1583,  there  occurred  another,  but  com- 
paratively a  trivial,  illustration  of  the  ambitious  views  of  the 
Guises, arid  the  vacillation  and  timidity  of  the  king.  Francis  de  Ro- 
sieres,  a  native  of  Toul,  born  in  1534,  was  a  man  of  prepossessing 
manners,  and  of  considerable  erudition  and  eloquence.  He  rose 
to  be  Archdeacon  of  Toul,  and  through  the  patronage  of  Cardinal 
de  Guise,  obtained  several  benefices,  and  the  office  of  counselor 
to  the  Duke  of  Lorraine.  To  prove  his  gratitude  to  his  benefac- 
tors, and  probably  at  their  instigation,  he  composed  and  published 
a  voluminous  work,  on  "the  genealogy  of  the  Dukes  of  Lorraine 
and  Bar."  Its  evident  purpose  was  to  degrade  the  reigning  family, 
and  exalt  that  of  the  Guises.  Not  satisfied  with  tracing  back  in 
a  direct  line  to  Charlemagne  the  descent  of  the  house  of  Lorraine, 
he  carried  it  further  through  the  starless  night  of  ages,  up  to  a 
son  of  Clodion,  from  whom  Merovseus  was  pretended  to  have 
usurped  the  crown.  The  inference  was  easy,  that  the  monarchs 
of  the  Capetian  race  were  intruders,  and  that  the  Guises  alone 
had  a  legitimate  right  to  the  throne.  From  thence  to  the  assertion 
of  the  right  was  but  a  single  step,  on  the  propriety  of  which  it 
was  for  prudence  to  decide,  the  question  of  justice  being  already 
settled.  This  doctrine  was,  in  fact,  openly  taught  in  other  works, 
which  the  Guises,  however,  affected  to  disavow,  and  to  regard  as 
fabrications  of  the  Protestants,  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  sus- 
picion on  their  loyalty. 

In  addition  to  his  laboured  genealogy  of  his  patrons,  Rosieres 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  97 

had  been  guilty  of  various  misrepresentations,  and  of  a  personal 
attack  upon  Henry;  and  he  had  supported  his  fabric  of  falsehood 
by  documents  which  were  manifestly  spurious,  and  by  altering 
others,  so  as  to  suit  them  to  his  purpose.  The  other  libels  Henry 
had  repelled  only  by  employing  Pons  de  Thyard,  a  man  of  varied 
talents,  to  write  an  elaborate  answer :  against  this  he  resolved  to 
proceed  in  a  different  manner ;  he  treated  it  as  a  state  crime.  He 
who  had  swallowed  the  camel  of  last  year's  conspiracy,  now 
strained  at  this  gnat  of  a  volume.  And  here  again  his  infirmity 
of  purpose  betrayed  him  to  the  scorn  of  his  enemies.  Commenc- 
ing vigorously,  he  dispatched  Brulart  to  Toul,  to  interrogate 
Rosieres ;  after  which  the  archdeacon  was  conveyed  to  Paris,  and 
housed  in  the  Bastile.  Thus  far,  Henry  seemed  to  have  meditated 
a  tragedy;  but,  in  its  further  progress,  the  drama  dwindled  down 
to  a  miserable  farce.  The  plan  which  he  adopted  had  the  demerit 
of  alike  disclosing  an  inclination  to  mortify  the  Guises,  and  a 
dread  of  offending  them.  It  was  the  latter  feeling  which  prompted 
him  to  prohibit  the  parliament  from  intervening  in  the  cause,  be- 
cause that  body  would  probably  pass  a  sentence  derogatory  to  the 
house  of  Lorraine ;  it  was  the  former  feeling  which  induced  him 
to  persevere  in  seeking  to  gain  the  shadow  of  a  triumph.  He 
could  not  see  that  anything  short  of  complete  victory  was  in 
reality  a  defeat. 

Pursuing  the  absurd  system  which  he  had  framed  for  himself, 
Henry  now  convoked,  at  the  Louvre,  a  numerous  council  of  nobles 
and  eminent  men;  all  the  heads  of  the  Lorraine  family  were 
present.  Rosieres  was  brought  from  the  Bastile,  and,  on  his  knees 
confessed  his  fault,  owned  that  he  deserved  rigorous  punishment, 
and  sued  for  pardon.  The  keeper  of  the  seals  then  gravely  lec- 
tured him  on  the  enormity  of  his  crime,  and  declared  him  to  be 
guilty  of  high  treason.  It  was  next  the  turn  of  the  queen-mother 
to  play  her  part ;  and,  accordingly,  as  had  previously  been  ar- 
ranged, she  stepped  forward,  and  entreated  her  son  to  forgive 
the  offender,  for  the  sake  of  the  Duke  of  Lorraine.  The  king  gra- 
ciously consented,  and  delivered  Rosieres  into  the  hands  of  the 
duke.  This  ludicrous  scene  was  terminated  by  a  decree,  that  the 
book  should  be  torn  to  pieces  before  the  author's  face,  but  that  no 
public  record  should  be  made  of  these  things,  "lest  reproach 
should  fall  on  the  illustrious  house  of  Lorraine."  Anquetil  pithily 
remarks,  that  the  crime  ought  either  to  have  been  left  unnoticed, 
or  been  more  severely  chastised. 

Rosieres  did  not  pass  the  whole  of  his  remaining  days  in  tran- 
quillity. He  involved  himself  in  a  quarrel  with  his  bishop,  and 


98  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  under  the  necessity  of  repairing  to  Rome,  to  plead  his  o\vn 
cause.  How  he  sped  in  the  holy  city  is  doubtful ;  one  writer  af- 
firms that  he  was  censured,  another  maintains  that  he  was  absolved. 
He  died  in  1607.  Besides  the  Genealogy,  he  wrote  various  works, 
which  are  as  dead  as  their  author. 

Writers  who  ventured  to  thwart  the  Guises  in  their  treasonable 
designs  did  not  meet  with  so  much  lenity  from  them  as  was  shown 
to  Rosieres  by  the  feeble-minded  Henry.  No  merit  whatever 
could  counterbalance  the  sin  of  opposing  them.  This  was  experi- 
enced by  Peter  de  Belloy,  an  eminent  jurisconsult,  who  was  born 
at  Montauban,  about  1540,  and  became  public  confessor  and  coun- 
selor at  Toulouse.  Belloy  was  a  zealous  Catholic,  and  his  three 
elder  brothers  had  fallen  in  combating  against  the  Protestants.  But 
these  claims  to  consideration  were  not  sufficient  to  prevent  him 
from  being  persecuted  by  the  house  of  Lorraine. 

Asserting  the  King  of  Navarre's  right  to  succeed  to  the  reigning 
monarch,  and  exposing  the  machinations  and  hollow  pretexts  of 
the  Guises,  was  the  crime  of  which  Belloy  was  guilty.  The 
works  which  drew  on  him  the  vengeance  of  the  Guisian  faction 
were  the  "Catholic  Apology;"  "A  Refutation  of  the  Bull  of  Pope 
Pius  V.  against  the  Navarrese  sovereign;"  and  "An  Examination 
of  the  Discourse  published  against  the  Royal  House  of  France." 
In  these  works,  which  were  given  to  the  press  in  1585  and  1586, 
he  contended,  that  the  Protestantism  of  Henry  of  Navarre  did  not 
deprive  him  of  his  title  to  the  crown;  that  the  king  could  not  dis- 
inherit his  legitimate  heir;  that  the  pope  had  no  authority  to  sit  in 
judgment  upon  the  question  of  the  succession ;  and  that  the  seem- 
ing ardour  of  the  Guises  in  behalf  of  Catholicism,  was  nothing 
more  than  a  mask  to  cover  their  designs  upon  the  throne.  His 
language  was  strictly  decorous,  his  candour  and  impartiality  were 
evident,  but  his  facts  and  arguments  were  unforgivable. 

Slander  was  the  weapon  which  his  enemies  began  by  using 
against  Belloy.  To  his  "  Catholic  Apology"  a  reply  was  published 
by  a  Jesuit,  who  assumed  the  designation  of  Francisculus  Romu- 
lus, but  who  is  believed  to  have  been  the  celebrated  Bellarmin. 
To  give  weight  to  his  reasonings,  the  Jesuit  boldly  asserted  that 
his  opponent,  who  falsely  took  the  name  of  Catholic,  was  at  least 
a  heretic,  if  not  an  atheist.  This  calumny  fell  harmless  upon  the 
object  at  which  it  was  aimed.  It  was  not  so  with  calumny  from 
a  higher  quarter.  The  Guises  were  not  satisfied  with  defaming 
him;  they  determined  to  make  him  feel  their  power  more  effec- 
tually. An  unfortunate  maniac,  le  Breton  by  name,  of  whom  I 
shall  have  next  occasion  to  speak,  had  written  a  seditious  libel. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  99 

This  libel  the  Guises  ascribed  to  Belloy.  Failing  to  effect  their 
purpose  by  this  accusation,  they  painted  him  in  the  darkest  colours 
to  the  king,  as  a  dangerous  mischief-maker  and  heretic,  and  the 
weak  monarch  was  at  last  prevailed  upon  to  commit  him  to  the 
prison  of  the  Conciergerie. 

After  Henry  had  assassinated  the  Duke  of  Guise,  the  Council 
of  Sixteen  removed  Belioy  to  the  Bastile,  where  he  remained  in 
close  confinement  for  nearly  four  years.  He  at  length  found 
means  to  escape,  and  he  sought  refuge  at  St.  Denis,  which  was 
garrisoned  by  the  troops  of  Henry  IV.  He  was  introduced  to 
Henry  by  Vic,  the  governor;  and  the  king  rewarded  his  talents 
and  fidelity  by  appointing  him  advocate-general  to  the  Parliament 
of  Toulouse.  His  subsequent  life  appeals  to  have  been  passed 
in  quiet.  The  date  of  his  death  is  not  known,  but  in  1612  he  was 
still  living.  He  wrote  various  works,  besides  those  which  have 
already  been  mentioned :  among  them  are  a  "  Dissertation  on  the 
Origin  and  Institution  of  various  Orders  of  Chivalry ;"  and  an 
"  Exposition  of  the  Seventy  Weeks  of  Daniel." 

Francis  le  Breton,  to  whom  I  have  already  alluded,  affords  a 
striking  proof  that,  when  Henry  the  Third  forbore  to  punish,  it 
was  not  clemency,  but  fear,  indolence,  or  caprice,  that  withheld 
his  hand.  Le  Breton  was  a  barrister  of  Poitiers,  who  had  ac- 
quired considerable  reputation  by  his  forensic  talents.  It  speaks 
strongly  in  favour  of  his  honesty  and  the  kindness  of  his  nature, 
that  he  espoused  so  warmly  the  part  of  those  for  whom  he  pleaded 
as  entirely  to  identify  their  interests  with  his  own.  A  mere  mer- 
cenary counsel,  indifferent  to  the  justice  or  injustice  of  his  client's 
claim,  could  have  had  no  such  feelings.  Unfortunately,  le  Bre- 
ton was  of  a  family  in  which  symptoms  of  insanity  had  often 
appeared,  and  the  dreadful  malady  was  lurking  in  his  brain.  The 
loss  of  a  cause,  in  which  he  was  engaged  for  a  poor  individual, 
at  once  roused  the  latent  disease  into  action.  He  burst  into  vehe- 
ment invectives  against  the  judges,  and  presented  a  violent  me- 
morial against  them  to  a  higher  tribunal.  The  superior  judges, 
who  saw  how  he  was  affected,  gave  him  a  gentle  rebuke,  and 
dismissed  the  complaint.  Irritated  by  this,  he  journeyed  to  Paris, 
to  make  an  appeal  to  the  king.  Having  fastened  his  memorial 
on  the  end  of  a  stick,  he  went  to  the  Louvre,  where  the  guards, 
who  rightly  concluded  that  he  was  bereft  of  his  senses,  endea- 
voured to  drive  him  away.  Le  Breton,  however,  was  immovable, 
and  he  exclaimed  so  loudly  and  incessantly,  "The  cause  of  the 
poor  is  abandoned,  and  God  will  take  vengeance  for  it,"  that  the 
noise  reached  the  king's  ear,  and  he  ordered  him  to  be  admitted. 


100  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Henry  listened  to  his  story,  and  then  commanded  him  to  return 
to  his  own  country,  and  to  keep  silence  in  public.  To  have 
sent  him  to  the  hospital  would  have  been  a  more  praiseworthy 
act. 

Instead  of  proceeding  to  Poitiers,  the  maniac  wandered  through 
the  provinces,  calling  on  the  people  to  recover  their  liberty,  and 
sending  inflammatory  writings  to  the  towns  which  were  too  dis- 
tant for  him  to  visit.  At  last  he  reached  Bordeaux,  and  de- 
manded an  interview  with  the  Duke  of  Mayenne.  It  was  granted ; 
and  the  unfortunate  lunatic  employed  the  whole  of  it  in  conjuring 
the  duke  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  poor.  Mayenne,  who  felt 
that  le  Breton's  harangues  to  the  multitude,  mad  as  he  was,  might 
be  serviceable  to  the  .Guises,  gave  him  money,  and  probably 
hopes,  and  then  desired  him  to  withdraw. 

Encouraged  by  this  gracious  reception,  le  Breton  made  the  best 
of  his  way  to  Paris,  where  he  sat  down  to  compose  a  furious  in- 
vective against  the  king,  whom,  with  more  truth  than  prudence 
or  decorum,  he  styled  a  debauched  tyrant,  and  the  magistrates, 
whom  he  stigmatized  as  men  steeped  in  wickedness,  who,  to 
please  that  tyrant,  and  gratify  men  in  power,  betrayed  the  cause 
of  the  poor.  Two  printers  were  found  who  had  sufficient  bold- 
ness to  risk  the  printing  of  this  libel.  But,  just  as  it  was  about 
to  appear,  the  whole  impression  was  seized,  and  the  author  was 
lodged  in  the  Bastile.  The  printers  were  sentenced  to  be  whipped, 
with  their  necks  in  a  halter,  and  then  to  be  banished  from  the 
kingdom.  The  libel  was  burnt  by  the  public  executioner. 

Believing,  or  affecting  to  believe,  that  the  prisoner  was  less  a 
madman  than  an  instrument  of  the  malcontents,  Henry  endea- 
voured, by  secret  interrogations,  to  obtain  a  confession  that  such 
was  the  fact.  The  attempt  failed,  and  the  prisoner  was  then  given 
up  to  the  parliament  for  trial.  It  was  his  misfortune  that  he  was 
not  the  agent  of  some  formidable  conspirator;  he  would  in  that 
case  have  had  a  fair  chance  of  escaping. 

When  le  Breton  was  brought  before  the  parliament,  his  malady 
manifested  itself  in  a  more  extravagant  manner  than  ever.  He 
treated  the  court  with  unbounded  contempt,  spoke  to  the  members 
with  his  hat  on,  and  would  answer  no  questions.  As  he  thus  suf- 
fered judgment  to  go  by  default,  sentence  of  death  was  passed 
upon  him,  as  guilty  of  having  excited  the  people  to  revolt;  but 
his  equitable  and  compassionate  judges  also  decreed,  that  "a  de- 
putation should  wait  upon  the  king,  to  represent  that  the  culprit 
laboured  under  mental  alienation,  and  to  entreat  that  his  majesty 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  101 

would  pardon  a  crime  which  was  rather  the  effect  of  disease  than 
of  free  will." 

But  neither  the  prayer  of  the  parliament,  nor  the  supplications 
of  le  Breton's  mother,  who  brought  irrefragable  evidence  of  his 
madness,  had  any  effect  upon  the  heartless  Henry.  Here  was  a 
victim  whom  he  could  safely  sacrifice,  and  he  would  not  forego 
the  pleasure.  Yet  even  here  his  mental  cowardice  peeped  out. 
Instead  of  the  involuntary  offender  being  conveyed  to  the  Greve, 
which  was  the  usual  place  of  execution,  he  was  hanged  in  the 
palace  court.  It  seems  to  have  been  supposed,  and  perhaps  cor- 
rectly, that  the  people  could  not  witness  without  emotion  the 
death  of  a  man  whose  malady  and  whose  fate  had  been  brought 
upon  him  by  commiseration  for  their  sorrows,  and  who  perished 
because  he  had  no  friend,  while  notorious  criminals  were  daily 
allowed  to  brave  the  laws  with  impunity.  Far  from  acting  as  an 
example  to  deter  others,  the  murder  of  le  Breton — for  in  his  de- 
plorable situation  it  was  a  murder — only  served  to  exasperate  the 
people  in  a  tenfold  degree.  It  was  the  singular  infelicity  of 
Henry  never  to  be  right  in  his  treatment  of  crime ;  he  was  de- 
spised when  he  did  not  punish,  he  was  hated  when  he  did. 

Political  persecution  consigned  to  the  Bastile,  at  this  period,  and 
when  he  was  on  the  verge  of  the  grave  from  extreme  old  age,  a 
man  who  was  a  benefactor,  and  an  honour,  to  his  native  land. 
Bernard  Palissy  was  born  about  the  year  1500,  in  the  bishopric 
of  Agen.  His  parents  were  so  scantily  favoured  by  fortune  that 
they  could  do  little  for  his  education;  but  he  contrived  to  acquire 
a  knowledge  of  reading  and  writing,  and  sufficient  skill  in  draw- 
ing and  land-measuring  to  gain  a  livelihood  as  a  draughtsman,  a 
painter  of  glass  and  images,  and  a  land  surveyor.  Geology, 
natural  philosophy,  and  chemistry,  next  attracted  his  attention, 
and  with  respect  to  the  two  former  he  was  far  in  advance  of  his 
cotemporaries. 

It  was  about  the  year  1539,  when  he  had  settled  at  Saintes, 
after  his  journeys  through  the  provinces,  that  a  circumstance  oc- 
curred which  gave  a  colour  to  all  his  future  life.  He  chanced  to 
be  shown  a  beautiful  enameled  porcelain  cup,  manufactured  in 
Italy.  It  struck  him  that,  if  he  could  discover  the  secret  of  fabri- 
cating this  ware,  he  might  obtain  riches,  and  likewise  serve  his 
country  by  introducing  into  it  a  new  art.  From  that  moment  he 
pursued  his  object  with  admirable  energy  and  perseverance.  In- 
numerable experiments  failed,  his  resources  wasted  away,  poverty 
and  almost  starvation  stared  him  in  the  face,  yet  still,  in  spite  of 
this,  and  of  the  exhortations  of  some,  and  the  sneers  of  others, 


102  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

he  steadily  persisted.  At  length,  after  having  suffered  a  mental 
martyrdom  of  sixteen  years'  duration,  he  succeeded  in  his  efforts, 
and  independence  and  fame  were  his  reward.  For  the  adorn- 
ment of  their  palaces  and  gardens,  the  king  and  all  the  nobles  of 
France  were  eager  to  possess  the  figures  and  vases  which  were 
produced  by  Palissy's  taste  and  skill. 

Bernard  Palissy  had  too  enlarged  a  mind  to  devote  himself 
wholly  to  the  heaping  up  of  riches.  The  toils  of  business  he 
diversified  and  lightened  by  liberal  studies.  He  formed  a  cabinet 
of  natural  history  at  Paris;  gave,  for  several  years,  a  course  of 
lectures  on  natural  history  and  physics ;  and  wrote  a  variety  of 
works,  valuable  for  their  facts  and  reasonings  and  the  new  and 
just  views  contained  in  them,  and  unaffected  and  pleasing  in  their 
style. 

Palissy  was  a  Protestant,  firmly  attached  to  his  religion,  and 
from  that  attachment  arose  the  only  troubles  which  molested  him 
in  the  decline  of  life.  When  the  public  exercise  of  their  worship 
was  prohibited,  he  gathered  into  a  private  assembly,  a  few  indi- 
viduals of  his  own  class,  each  of  whom  in  his  turn  expounded 
the  tenets  of  the  Gospel.  In  1562,  though  the  Duke  of  Montpen- 
sier  had  given  him  a  safeguard,  and  his  manufactory  had  been 
declared  a  privileged  place,  the  bigoted  judges  of  Saintes  de- 
stroyed his  establishment,  and  would  have  destroyed  the  proprie- 
tor also,  had  not  the  king  interposed,  and  rescued  him  from  their 
hands.  The  memory  of  Charles  the  Ninth  is  branded  with  eter- 
nal infamy,  but  candour  requires  it  to  be  owned  that  he  was  a  man 
of  taste  and  talent;  a  lover  of  literature  and  the  arts.  It  is  mel- 
ancholy to  think  of  what  he  might  have  been,  and  what  he 
was.  He  invited  the  persecuted  artist  to  Paris  and  gave  him 
apartments  in  the  Tuileries.  Thus  protected,  Palissy  remained 
unhurt  during  the  horrible  slaughter  of  St.  Bartholomew's  day. 

The  protection  which  Charles  the  Ninth  extended  to  Palissy, 
the  weaker-minded  Henry  the  Third  wanted  courage  to  continue. 
When  the  influence  of  the  Guises  became  predominant  in  Paris, 
the  venerable  artist  was  arrested  by  the  Council  of  Sixteen,  and 
thrown  into  the  Bastile.  There  Henry  visited  him.  "My  good 
man,"  said  the  king,  "if  you  cannot  bring  yourself  to  conform  on 
the  point  of  religion,  I  shall  be  compelled  to  leave  you  in  the 
clutches  of  my  enemies."  Palissy  was  then  nearly  ninety  years 
of  age,  but  his  spirit  was  not  bowed  by  the  weight  of  years,  or 
the  prospect  of  death.  He  firmly  replied,  "  Sire,  you  have  seve- 
ral times  said  that  you  pity  me ;  but  I  pity  yow,  who  have  uttered 
the  words  4I  am  compelled.'  This  is  not  speaking  like  a  king. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  10& 


I  will  teach  you  the  royal  language.  Neither  the  Guisarts,  nor 
your  whole  people,  can  ever  compel  me  to  bend  my  knee  before 
an  image,  for  I  know  how  to  die." 

The  firmness  of  Palissy  was  not  put  to  the  extreme  proof;  but, 
had  it  been  so,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  his  conduct  would 
have  belied  his  words.  ,  He  was  saved  from  the  fiery  ordeal  by 
the  Duke  of  Mayenne,  who  humanely  threw  so  many  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  his  trial,  that  Palissy  died  a  natural  death,  in  the 
Bastile,  about  the  year  1589,  no  less  respected  for  his  virtues  than 
admired  for  his  talents.* 

Those  enemies  of  Henry,  into  whose  hands  he  feared  that  he 
should  be  "compelled"  to  deliver  up  Palissy,  continued  to  plot 
against  the  monarch  with  an  astonishing  degree  of  audacity, 
which  could  be  equaled  only  by  the  tanieness  with  which  he 
endured  it.  Plans  were  successively  formed  by  them,  to  obtain 
possession  of  Boulogne ;  to  arrest  him  on  his  way  from  Vincennes, 
and,  subsequently,  at  the  fair  of  St.  Germain;  and  to  make 
themselves  masters  of  the  Bastile,  the  Arsenal,  the  Temple,  and 
other  posts  in  Paris,  massacre  the  ministers,  judges  and  courtiers, 
and  depose  and  imprison  him.  Among  the  bitterest  and  most 
active  of  his  enemies  was  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  sister  of 
the  Duke  of  Guise,  who  constantly  wore  at  her  girdle  a  pair  of 
golden  scissors,  for  the  purpose,  as  she  insolently  said,  of  giving 
the  monkish  tonsure  to  brother  Henry  of  Valois,  previous  to  his 
being  sent  to  a  monastery.  Henry  frustrated  these  schemes,  but 
had  not  spirit  to  punish  them.  The  impunity  which  the  crimi- 
nals enjoyed  produced  its  natural  effect.  The  resources  and  the 
boldness  of  the  conspirators  were  increased ;  the  memorable  day 
of  the  barricades  ensued ;  the  monarch  was  expelled  from  Paris ; 
and  he  entered  it  no  more. 

As  soon  as  the  king  had  taken  flight  from  the  Louvre,  Guise 
put  garrisons  into  the  Arsenal,  and  other  military  positions  of 
Paris,  and  likewise  into  Vincennes  and  the  town  of  Corbeil.  The 
Bastile  might  still  have  remained  in  the  power  of  Henry,  and 
afforded  him  an  easy  entrance  into  his  capital,  had  he  not  been 
guilty  of  an  unaccountable  act  of  folly.  Colonel  Ornano,  an  officer 
of  established  reputation,  had  offered  to  pledge  his  head  that,  if 
he  were  intrusted  with  the  command,  he  would  hold  the  place  to 
the  last  extremity  ;  but  Henry  preferred  leaving  it  in  the  hands 
of  Lawrence  Testu,  of  whom  it  was  sarcastically  said,  that  he 

*  I  have  passed  lightly  over  the  life  of  Palissy.  because  I  shall  have  occasion 
to  dwell  upon  it,  in  another  volume  of  the  Family  Library. 


104  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  more  fit  to  govern  a  bottle  than  a  fortress.  He  justified  the 
contempt  which  was  expressed  for  him,  by  surrendering  the  mo- 
ment that  he  received  a  summons  from  Guise.  His  prompt  sub- 
mission called  forth  another  sarcasm,  by  which  he  was  declared  to 
have  given  up  his  post,  because  he  had  no  oranges  to  flavour  his 
ragout  of  partridges. 

The  government  of  the  Bastile  was  conferred,  by  Guise,  on 
Bussi  le  Clerc,  the  most  active  member  of  the  Council  of  Sixteen, 
a  determined  hater  of  the  king  and  the  Protestants,  and  devoted 
heart  and  soul  to  the  Guises.  Bussi  was  originally  a  fencing- 
master,  but  changed  his  calling,  and  became  an  attorney.  He 
was  not  long  without  prisoners.  Among  the  first  whom  he  re- 
ceived were  Perreuse,  late  the  provost  of  the  merchants,  who  was 
expelled  from  his  office  for  being  faithful  to  the  king,  La  Guesle, 
the  attorney-general,  and  Damours,  a  Protestant  minister. 

Damours  was  fortunate.  Some  ferocious  wild  beasts  have  been 
known  to  contract  an  attachment  to  helpless  animals  which  were 
thrown  into  their  dens.  Bussi  did  so  with  respect  to  Damours. 
Instead  of  tormenting  him,  and  being  eager  to  send  him  to  the 
flames,  a  mode  of  proceeding  which  might  have  been  expected 
from  a  zealous  and  unenlightened  Catholic,  he  took  a  singular 
liking  for  him.  With  many  oaths,  he  declared  that,  "  thorough 
Huguenot  as  he  was,  Damours  was  worth  more  tnan  all  those  poli- 
ticians, the  presidents  and  counselors,  who  were  nothing  but 
hypocrites  ;"  and  he  bestirred  himself  so  vigorously  on  behalf  of 
his  favourite,  that  he  procured  his  liberation. 

James  de  la  Guesle  was  born  in  1557,  and  succeeded  his  father 
in  the  office  of  attorney-general.  After  the  day  of  the  barricades, 
he  endeavoured  to  escape  in  disguise  from  Paris,  for  the  purpose 
of  joining  the  fugitive  king ;  but  he  was  recognized,  and  com- 
mitted to  prison.  He  did  not  long  remain  in  the  Bastile,  and,  as 
soon  as  he  was  set  free,  he  proceeded  to  St.  Cloud,  where  Henry 
was  residing.  The  death  of  the  king,  which  soon  after  occurred, 
afforded  the  enemies  of  La  Guesle  a  pretext  to  throw  out  insinua- 
tions against  him ;  for  it  was  by  him  that  Clement,  the  assassin 
monk,  was  introduced  into  the  presence  of  the  monarch.  His 
loyalty  was,  however,  too  well  known  to  admit  of  being  stained 
by  calumny.  After  having  held  office  throughout  the  reign  of 
Henry  IV.,  and  enjoyed  the  full  confidence  of  that  sovereign,  La 
Guesle  died  in  1612. 

The  Bastile  was  not  allowed  to  remain  untenanted  by  prisoners 
of  distinction.  Bussi  had  soon  the  gratification  of  wreaking  his 
hatred  upon  "  the  presidents  and  counselors"  whom  he  had  de- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  105 

scribed  as  being  "  nothing  but  hypocrites."  The  parliament,  still 
faithful  to  the  king,  was  a  serious  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the 
Leaguers,  and  the  Council  of  Sixteen  determined,  therefore,  to 
apply  an  effectual  remedy  to  this  evil.  This  remedy  was  of  the 
same  nature  as  that  which,  long  afterwards,  was  employed  in 
England,  by  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  is  known  by  the  name  of 
Pride's  Purge.  Bussi  le  Clerc  was  the  Colonel  Pride  on  this 
occasion. 

On  the  16th  of  January,  1589,  while  the  parliament  was  about 
to  choose  deputies,  for  a  mission  to  the  king,  at  Blois,  Bussi,  who 
had  surrounded  the  hall  with  troops,  suddenly  entered,  attended 
by  some  of  his  armed  followers,  and  began  to  read  a  list  of  the 
proscribed  members,  among  whom  were  the  two  presidents.  On 
hearing  this,  the  whole  of  the  members  simultaneously  declared, 
that  they  would  share  the  fate  of  their  chiefs.  Bussi  took  them 
at  their  word,  and  they  were  led  away  to  the  Bastile,  where  they 
were  soon  joined  by  some  of  their  colleagues,  who,  suspecting 
what  would  happen,  had  not  quitted  their  homes,  but  whose  cau- 
tion had  failed  to  ensure  their  safety.  All  those  who  were  not  on 
Bussi's  list  were,  however,  liberated  in  the  course  of  the  same 
evening,  and  a  part  of  the  others  were  allowed  to  return  to  their 
homes,  on  their  friends  becoming  answerable  for  them.  Having 
thus  got  rid  of  the  persons  who  were  obnoxious  to  them,  the 
Leaguers  remodeled  the  parliament,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  ren- 
der it  subservient  to  their  purposes. 

The  most  distinguished  of  the  parliamentary  members  who  were 
kept  in  hold  were  Achille  de  Harlay,  Nicholas  Potier  de  Blanc- 
mesnil,  Louis  Seguier,  and  James  Gillot. 

The  personal  and  mental  courage  of  Harlay  qualified  him  well 
for  the  stormy  times  in  which  he  lived.  To  the  influence  of  fear 
he  seems  to  have  been  scarcely  accessible.  To  the  merit  of  un- 
changeable loyalty  he  added  the  rarer  merit  of  opposing  the  rash 
and  oppressive  edicts  of  the  sovereign.  His  legal  knowledge  was 
profound,  and  his  integrity  without  a  stain.  He  was  born  in  1536, 
and  he  sprung  from  a  family  which  had  distinguished  itself,  for 
more  than  two  centuries,  on  the  seat  of  justice  or  in  the  field  of 
battle.  At  the  age  of  forty-six,  he  succeeded  his  father-in-law, 
Christopher  de  Thou,  as  president  of  the  parliament  of  Paris. 

When  the  success  of  his  partisans,  on  the  day  of  the  Barri- 
cades, had  rendered  the  Duke  of  Guise  master  of  the  capital,  he 
went,  with  a  train  of  followers,  to  the  house  of  Harlay,  for  the 
purpose  of  prevailing  on  him  to  convoke  the  parliament,  that  the 
recent  measures  might  obtain  something  like  a  sanction.  The 


106  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


president  was  walking  in  the  garden,  and  he  did  not  deign  to 
notice  his  visitor  till  the  duke  approached  him;  then,  raising  his 
voice,  he  said,  "It  is  a  lamentable  thing  when  the  servant  drives 
out  his  master.  As  to  all  the  rest,  my  soul  is  God's,  my  heart  is 
the  king's,  and  my  body  is  in  the  hands  of  the  wicked ;  let  them 
do  as- they  please  with  it."  Guise  still  pressing  him  to  assemble 
the  parliament,  he  sternly  replied,  "When  the  majesty  of  the 
monarch  is  violated,  the  magistrate  has  no  longer  any  authority." 
Hoping  to  intimidate  him,  some  of  the  duke's  followers  threatened 
him  with  death,  but  their  threats  were  as  unavailing  as  the  request 
of  Guise  had  been.  "  I  have,"  replied  the  undaunted  magistrate, 
"  neither  head  nor  life  that  I  value  more  than  the  love  I  owe  to 
God,  the  service  which  I  owe  to  the  king,  and  the  good  which  I 
owe  to  my  country." 

After  the  imprisonment  of  several  months,  Harlay  obtained  his 
liberty,  at  the  price  of  ten  thousand  crowns.  The  moment  that  he 
was  free  he  departed  from  Paris,  to  join  Henry  the  Fourth  at 
Tours,  and  the  monarch  appointed  him  president  of  the  parliament 
sitting  in  that  city,  and  composed  of  Parisian  members,  who  had 
succeeded  in  escaping  from  the  clutches  of  the  Leaguers.  In 
this  post,  Harlay  sustained  his  high  reputation,  by  the  vigour  and 
eloquence  with  which  he  refuted  the  manifestoes  of  Spain  and  the 
League,  and  the  bulls  of  the  Roman  Pontiff. 

Peace  at  length  came,  and  Henry  rewarded  his  services  by  the 
estate  of  Beaumont,  with  the  title  of  count.  When  the  first 
president  returned  to  Paris,  all  the  members  of  the  parliament 
went  out  to  meet  and  congratulate  him.  As  Harlay  advanced  in 
years  he  did  not  bate  one  jot  of  the  spirit  which  he  had  manifested  at 
an  earlier  period.  He  still  unflinchingly  supported  the  rights  of  the 
kingdom,  and  the  liberties  of  the  Gallican  church,  and  protested 
against  whatever  he  deemed  pernicious  to  the  people  or  the  monarch. 
The  re-establishment  of  the  Jesuits  he  strongly  but  vainly  opposed. 
From  one  of  his  speeches  to  Henry  the  Fourth,  in  1604,  we  may 
judge  with  what  an  honest  freedom  he  uttered  his  sentiments. 
The  parliament  having  dissented  from  a  measure  which  the 
Council  had  resolved  upon,  its  dissent  was  construed  into  dis- 
obedience. "  If  to  serve  well  be  disobedience,"  replied  the  vene- 
rable magistrate,  "the  parliament  is  in  the  habit  of  committing 
that  fault ;  and,  when  a  conflict  arises  between  the  king's  absolute 
power  and  the  good  of  his  service,  it  prefers  the  one  to  the  other, 
not  from  disobedience,  but  from  a  desire  to  do  its  duty,  and  to 
keep  its  conscience  clear."' 

After  having  held  the  first  presidentship  for  thirty-four  years, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  107 

Harlay,  whose  sight  and  hearing  were  impaired,  resigned  it  early 
in  1616,  and  he  died  on  the  23d  of  October,  of  the  same  year,  at 
the  age  of  eighty. 

Born  at  Paris,  in  1541,  of  a  family  which  had  given  several 
eminent  magistrates  to  the  state,  Potier  de  Blancrnesnil  attained 
the  rank  of  president-a-mortier  in  1578.  With  talents  less 
splendid  than  those  of  Harlay,  he  was  not  inferior  to  him  in  pro- 
bity and  devoted  loyalty.  From  the  imprisonment  which  fol- 
lowed his  seizure  by  Bussi  le  Clerc  he  was  released  in  a  few 
days ;  but  he  did  not  long  retain  his  liberty.  When  Henry,  on 
the  1st  of  November,  1589,  made  himself  master  of  the  suburbs 
of  Paris,  and  there  seemed  reason  to  believe  that  the  new  mon- 
arch would  soon  enter  the  city  in  triumph,  the  joy  of  Potier  was 
so  undisguised,  that  the  Leaguers  again  sent  him  to  his  old  quar- 
ters in  the  Bastile.  He  was  brought  to  trial,  as  an  adherent  of 
the  Bearnese — for  so  Henry  was  contemptuously  called — and  he 
would  no  doubt  have  suffered  an  ignominious  death,  had  not 
the  Duke  of  Mayenne  interposed,  and  released  him  from  prison. 
Throwing  himself  at  the  feet  of  his  deliverer,  Potier  exclaimed, 
"My  Lord,  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  my  life  ;  yet  I  dare  to  request 
from  you  a  still  greater  benefit,  that  of  permitting  me  to  join  my 
legitimate  sovereign.  I  shall  all  my  life  acknowledge  you  as  my 
benefactor;  but  I  cannot  serve  you  as  my  master!"  Mayenne 
had  greatness  of  mind  enough  not  to  be  offended  by  this  speech. 
Affected  even  to  tears  by  the  appeal,  he  raised  up  and  embraced 
the  suppliant,  and  allowed  him  to  depart.  It  is  delightful  to  find 
a  fewr  bright  flowers  of  virtue  among  the  lurid  and  noxious 
growth  produced  by  civil  war. 

Henry  the  Fourth  rewarded  Potier  by  making  him  president 
of  the  Parliament  of  Chalons.  In  that  office  he  continued  during 
the  whole  of  Henry's  reign.  When  the  monarch  perished  by 
the  knife  of  Ravaillac,  the  news  was  carried  to  Chalons,  accom- 
panied, as  is  customary  in  such  cases,  by  a  thousand  terrific 
rumours.  As  soon  as  he  heard  the  lamentable  tidings,  Rene 
Potier,  the  president's  son,  who  was  Bishop  of  Beauvais,  hurried 
to  the  hall  where  the  parliament  was  sitting,  and  entreated  him  to 
quit  the  place  without  delay,  in  a  carriage  which  he  had  brought 
for  the  purpose.  But  the  magistrate  had  more  firmness  than  the 
prelate.  He  answered,  in  a  loud  voice,  that  the  state  and  the 
country  called  on  him  not  to  absent  himself  on  such  an  emergency, 
but  to  die,  if  needful,  in  order  to  secure  the  obedience  which  was 
due  to  Henry  the  Fourth's  son ;  and  he  earnestly  exhorted  his 
colleagues  not  to  remove  from  their  seats.  It  was  probably  fox 


108  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

this  opportune  act  of  courage  and  fidelity  that  Mary  de  Medicis 
conferred  on  him  the  title  of  her  chancellor. 

Potier  lived  to  the  venerable  age  of  ninety-four,  preserving  all 
his  faculties  to  the  last.  His  decease  took  place  on  the  1st  of 
June,  1635. 

It  has  been  remarked  by  French  writers,  that  no  family  fur- 
nished more  magistrates  than  that  of  Seguier.  From  the  first 
appearance  of  the  name  in  the  Parliament  of  Toulouse,  when  that 
body  was  originally  formed,  in  the  14th  century,  down  to  the  pe- 
riod of  the  French  revolution,  the  number  amounted  to  sixty-eight, 
of  whom  many  possessed  high  talents,  and  consummate  legal 
knowledge.  Peter,  the  first  who  bore  that  prenomen,  is  charac- 
terized, by  the  poet  Scevola  St.  Marthe,  as  "one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant lights  of  the  temple  of  the  laws,"  and  in  this  praise  there  is  no 
poetical  exaggeration.  To  this  magistrate  France  owes  eternal 
gratitude,  for  his  having  frustrated  the  project  of  introducing  the 
Inquisition  into  that  country.  He  was  warned  beforehand  that 
he  would  do  well  to  avoid  venturing  too  far  in  his  opposition,  but 
he  nobly  set  the  danger  at  defiance,  and  he  triumphed. 

The  six  sons  who  survived  him  were  all  of  the  legal  profession. 
No  monarch  ever  paid  a  more  graceful  compliment  to  a  subject 
than  that  which  Henry  the  Fourth  paid  to  the  second  Peter,  a  son 
of  the  first,  who  became  president  on  the  resignation  of  his  father. 
The  courtiers  pressing  so  closely  round  the  king  that  the  presi- 
dent could  not  reach  him,  Henry  held  out  his  hand  to  Seguier, 
and  said,  "Gentlemen,  allow  to  come  to  me  my  inseparable  dur- 
ing my  bad  fortune,  which,  with  you,  he  aided  me  to  surmount. 
I  can  answer  for  it,  that  notwithstanding  the  business  with  which 
I  burden  him,  he  will  always  be  too  much  my  friend  to  neglect 
me."  In  a  similar  strain  he  publicly  addressed  Anthony,  another 
brother,  who  was  setting  ofT  on  an  embassy  to  Venice.  "  You 
made  your  way  into  my  affections,"  said  he,  "in  the  same  man- 
ner that  I  did  into  my  kingdom,  in  spite  of  the  resistance  and  the 
slanders  of  my  enemies  and  enviers." 

Louis,  the  fourth  brother,  was  a  councilor  of  the  Parliament, 
and  also  dean  of  the  cathedral  church  of  Notre  Dame,  at  Paris. 
He  obtained  his  release  from  the  Bastile  byypaying  a  large  ransom : 
but  he  was  not  allowed  to  remain  in  peace,  he  being  soon  after 
expelled  from  the  capital  by  the  Leaguers.  He  was  subsequently 
sent  to  Rome,  by  Henry  the  Fourth,  to  negotiate  with  the  Pope 
for  the  monarch's  absolution.  On  his  return,  he  was  offered  the 
bishopric  of  Laon,  which  would  have  given  him  the  elevated  and 
much  coveted  rank  of  Duke  and  Peer.  Seguier,  however,  devoid 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  109 

of  ambition,  preferred  to  remain  in  the  humble  station  of  dean. 
He  died  in  1610. 

Gillot,  the  last  of  those  whom  I  have  mentioned  as  having  been 
lodged  in  the  Bastile  by  Bussi  le  Clerc,  was  certainly  entitled  to 
share  the  fate  of  his  companions,  his  attachment  to  the  royal  cause 
being  a  matter  of  notoriety.  He  was  of  a  noble  Burgundian  family, 
possessed  a  good  fortune,  much  erudition,  and  a  valuable  library, 
was  connected  with  most  of  the  wits  and  learned  men  of  that  pe- 
riod, and  assembled  them  frequently  at  his  social  board,  where 
they  conversed  on  topics  of  philosophy  and  literature.  He  had 
also  the  higher  merit  of  being  beneficent,  sincere,  and  candid.  It 
Avas  said  of  him,  that  he  had  so  benign  a  disposition  that  his  sole 
delight  was  in  obliging.  Gillot  was  educated  for  the  church,  and 
became  dean  of  Langres,and  canon  of  the  Holy  Chapel  at  Paris; 
he  was  likewise  one  of  the  ecclesiastical  counselors,  or  judges,  in 
the  parliament.  His  abode  in  the  Bastile  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  of  long  duration ;  it  is  probable  that  he  ransomed  himself. 
For  his  incarceration  he  took  an  ample  revenge,  by  bearing  apart 
in  writing  the  admirable  satire  called  "la  Satire  Menippee,  ou  le 
Catholicon  d'Espagne,"  which  covered  the  Leaguers  with  inef- 
faceable ridicule,  and  is  said  to  have  been  more  injurious  to  their 
cause  than  the  sword  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  The  harangue  of 
the  legate  at  the  opening  of  the  states  of  the  League,  and  the 
laughable  idea  of  the  procession  of  the  Leaguers,  are  attributed 
to  Gillot.  This  estimable  and  talented  man  died  in  1619. 

The  Council  of  Sixteen,  like  the  Common  Council  of  Paris  in 
1792  and  1793,  was  eager  to  monopolize  all  the  power  of  the 
state.  It  carried  on  a  secret  correspondence  with  the  Pope  and 
the  Spanish  monarch,  and  was  obviously  preparing  to  subvert  the 
authority  of  the  Duke  of  Mayenne.  In  furtherance  of  its  plan, 
it  resolved  to  strike  the  parliament  with  terror,  and  of  course  ren- 
der that  body  subservient,  by  a  decisive  blow.  A  pretext  was 
furnished  by  the  acquittal  of  a  person  named  Brigard,  who  ,had 
been  tried  on  a  charge  of  corresponding  with  the  royalists.  A 
cry  was  immediately  raised,  that  the  parliament  had  violated  its 
duty,  by  granting  impunity  to  treason,  and  that  some  measure 
must  be  adopted  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  such  a  crime. 
Several  meetings  were  clandestinely  held,  to  decide  upon  what 
should  be  done.  The  result  was,  that  on  the  15th  of  November, 
1591,  the  president  Brisson,  and  the  counselors  Larcher  and 
Tardif,  were  seized  by  order  of  the  Sixteen,  carried  to  prison,  and 
hanged  there  upon  a  beam,  without  even  the  semblance  of  a  trial. 


110  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

The  bodies,  with  calumnious  papers  attached  to  them,  were  then 
removed  to  the  Greve,  and  publicly  exposed  on  three  gibbets. 

This  last  outrage  caused  the  downfall  of  the  Sixteen.  Mayenne 
had  long  been  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  these  turbulent  and 
sanguinary  men,  and  he  was  heartily  glad  of  this  opportunity  to 
punish  them,  and  annihilate  their  political  influence.  He  could 
do  both  with  safety,  as  a  great  majority  of  the  citizens  were 
shocked  and  disgusted  by  the  murderous  act  which  had  been 
committed.  The  duke  was  then  with  his  army  at  Soissons,  where 
he  was  expecting  to  be  joined  by  the  Prince  of  Parma.  Leaving 
his  troops  under  the  command  of  the  young  Duke  of  Guise,  he 
hastened,  with  three  hundred  horse  and  fifteen  hundred  foot,  to 
Paris.  A  few  days  after  his  arrival,  he  consigned  four  of  the 
criminals  to  execution,  proscribed  two  who  had  escaped,  prohi- 
bited, under  pain  of  death,  all  secret  meetings,  and  thus  put  an 
end  forever  to  the  tyranny  of  the  council.  The  partisans  and 
agents  of  Spain  murmured  in  private  at  these  decisive  measures, 
but  they  were  in  too  feeble  a  minority  to  venture  upon  doing 
more. 

Among  those  who  were  executed  was  not  Bussi  le  Clerc; 
though,  as  he  had  been  the  most  conspicuous  actor  in  the  murders, 
he  richly  deserved  death.  It  was  to  being  governor  of  the  Bastile 
that  he  was  indebted  for  his  safety.  When  Mayenne  came  to 
Paris,  Bussi  prudently  kept  within  the  walls  of  the  fortress ;  and, 
as  there  were  various  reasons  which  made  it  unadvisable  to  be- 
siege him,  he  was  allowed  to  negotiate.  On  condition  that  he 
should  not  be  punished  for  his  share  in  the  murder  of  Brisson, 
Larcher,  and  Tardif,  and  that  he  should  be  at  liberty  to  go  where- 
soever he  pleased  with  his  property,  he  agreed  to  surrender  the 
Bastile.  The  first  of  these  articles  was  faithfully  performed ;  but 
with  respect  to  the  second  he  was  not  so  Jucky,  for  Mayenne's 
soldiers  deprived  him  of  the  booty  which  he  had  made  during  the 
civil  war.  He  retired  to  Brussels,  where,  during  forty  years,  he 
earned  a  scanty  subsistence,  as  an  obscure  teacher  of  fencing. 
The  custody  of  the  Bastile  was  confided,  by  the  Duke  of  May- 
enne, to  du  Bourg,  a  brave  and  trusty  officer. 

In  1589,  after  Henry  the  Fourth's  attempt  upon  Paris,  when 
he  had  little  more  than  the  shadow  of  an  army  left,  and  was 
obliged  to  retreat  on  Normandy,  the  Parisians  were  so  confident 
that  the  Bearnese  would  be  brought  back  a  prisoner  by  the  Duke 
of  Mayenne,  that  the  windows  in  St.  Anthony's-street  were  hired 
to  see  him  pass  along  in  his  way  to  the  Bastile ;  in  the  following 
year  he  held  them  cooped  up  within  their  walls,  suffering  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  Ill 

direst  extremity  of  famine;  and  now,  in  1594,  he  entered  the 
capital  in  triumph,  as  an  acknowledged  sovereign,  amidst  the 
shouts  of  the  multitude.  It  must  be  owned,  however,  that  for  the 
submission  of  Paris,  as  well  as  of  many  other  cities,  Henry  had 
to  thank  his  purse  rather  than  his  sword.  For  giving  up  Paris, 
Brissac,  the  governor,  received  nearly  seventeen  hundred  thou- 
sand livres.  The  whole  of  the  strong  places  which  the  king 
bought,  cost  him  no  less  than  thirty-two  millions  of  livres,  besides 
governments,  offices,  and  titles.  At  dinner,  on  the  day  of  his 
entry,  he  pointedly  alluded  to  this  circumstance,  in  the  presence 
of  some  of  the  vendors.  Nicholas,  a  jovial  poet  and  man  of  wit, 
was  standing  by  Henry's  chair:  "Well,"  said  the  king  to  him, 
"what  say  you  to  seeing  me  here,  in  Paris  ?"  "Sire,"  replied 
Nicholas,  "that  which  is  Csesar's  has  been  rendered  unto  Caesar." 
"Ventre  saint-gris  !"  exclaimed  Henry  in  reply,  "I  have  not  been 
treated  at  all  like  Caesar,  for  it  has  not  been  rendered  to  me  but 
sold  to  me,  and  at  a  pretty  high  price,  too." 

There  was,  nevertheless,  one  man  among  the  Leaguers  who 
was  not  venal.  This  was  du  Bourg,  the  governor  of  the  Bastile. 
His  vigilance  had  recently  frustrated  a  plot  to  seize  on  the  fortress, 
and  he  now  prepared  to  defend  his  charge  to  the  utmost.  For 
five  days  he  refused  to  listen  to  any  overtures,  and  he  even  turned 
his  cannon  upon  the  city.  But  having  received  information  that 
it  was  impossible  for  Mayenne  to  succour  him,  he  consented  to 
capitulate  upon  honourable  terms.  His  garrison  was  allowed  to 
retire  with  arms  and  baggage.  Money  he  refused  to  accept ;  nor 
would  he  acknowledge  Henry  as  his  master;  he  had,  he  said, 
given  his  faith  to  the  Duke  of  Mayenne,  and  he  would  not  violate 
it.  With  a  strange  mixture  of  ferocity,  coarseness,  and  chivalrous 
feeling,  he  added,  that  Brissac  was  a  traitor,  that  he  would  main- 
tain it  in  mortal  combat  with  him  before  the  king,  and  that  he 
"would  eat  his  heart  in  his  belly." 

The  circumstances  of  the  times,  which  rendered  it  necessary  to 
reign  with  some  degree  of  caution,  but  still  more  the  generous 
and  clement  character  of  Henry,  for  a  few  years  prevented  the 
Bastile  from  having  many  captive  inmates.  Menaces  of  sending 
individuals  to  it  were  occasionally  thrown  out,  but  they  were  not 
executed.  In  1596,  for  instance,  when,  to  supply  his  pressing 
wants,  Henry  had  unjustly  seized  on  the  money  destined  to  pay 
annuitants  at  the  town-hall,  we  find  him  giving  vent  to  a  mo- 
mentary fit  of  anger,  and  threatening  whoever  should  presume  to 
hold  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  seditious  language,  with  respect 
to  this  arbitrary  measure.  The  seditious  language,  which  thus 


112  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

excited  his  wrath,  was  nothing  more  than  a  petition,  which  a 
citizen  named  Carel  had  drawn  up  on  behalf  of  the  plundered 
annuitants. 

There  was  a  moment  when  the  Bastile  was  on  the  point  of 
receiving  an  illustrious  victim ;  no  less  a  man  than  Theodore 
Agrippa  d'Aubigne,  the  long  tried  and  faithful  friend  of  Henry, 
amidst  peril  and  misfortune.  Irritated  by  d'Aubigne's  restless 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  the  Huguenots,  the  king  gave  Sully  an  order 
to  arrest  him,  but  it  was  soon  withdrawn. 

In  1602,  Sully  was  appointed  governor  of  the  Bastile.  Since 
1597  he  had  been  at  the  head  of  the  finance  department,  and 
during  his  able  administration,  a  part  of  the  Bastile  was  occupied 
in  a  manner  such  as  it  had  never  before  been,  nor  ever  was  after- 
wards. It  became  a  place  of  deposit  for  the  yearly  surplus  of 
revenue,  which  was  obtained  by  the  judicious  system  of  the 
minister.  The  amount  of  the  treasure  thus  accumulated  has  been 
variously  estimated,  but  it  was  probably  about  forty  millions  of 
livres.  It  was  designed  to  be  appropriated  to  the  realizing  of 
Henry's  military  projects.  The  Tour  du  Tresor  is  supposed  to 
have  derived  its  name  from  its  having  been  the  tower  in  which 
this  hoard  was  secured. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Reign  of  Henry  IV.  continued. — Viscount  de  Tavannes. — The.  Marshal  Duke  of 
Biron. — Faults  of  Biron. — Friendship  of  Henry  IV.  for  Biron. — La  Fin,  and 
his  influence  over  Biron. — The  Duke  of  Savoy. — Biron's  first  treason  par- 
doned.— Embassies  of  Biron. — Speech  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  Biron. — Dis- 
content among  the  nobles. — Art  of  la  Fin. — Imprisonment  of  Renaze. — La 
Fin  betrays  Biron. — Artifices  employed  to  lull  Biron  into  security. — Arrest  of 
Biron,  and  the  Count  of  Auvergne. — Conduct  of  Biron  in  the  Bastile. — His 
trial. — His  execution. — Respect  paid  to  his  remains. — Monbarot  sent  to  the 
Bastile. — The  Count  of  Auvergne. — He  is  sent  to  the  Bastile  but  soon  released. 
— He  plots  again. — Cause  and  intent  of  the  conspiracy. — He  is  again  arrested. 
— Sentence  of  death  passed  on  him,  but  commuted  for  imprisonment. — He 
spends  twelve  years  in  the  Bastile. — Mary  of  Medicis  releases  him. — Con- 
spiracy of  Merargues. — He  is  executed. — Death  of  Henry  IV. 

THE  first  distinguished  prisoner  of  the  Bastile,  after  the  firm 
establishment  of  Henry  on  the  throne,  was  John  de  Saulx,  Vis- 
count de  Tavannes,  second  son  of  that  marshal  who  acquired  an 
undying  but  unenviable  fame  during  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  113 

mew.  He  was  born  in  1555,  and  may  be  said  to  have  been 
nursed  in  a  deadly  hatred  to  the  Protestants.  The  viscount  ac- 
companied Henry  the  Third  to  Poland,  remained  behind  when  his 
master  departed,  visited  the  Turkish  frontier  provinces,  was 
engaged  in  various  actions,  and  at  length  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  Ottomans.  He  managed,  however,  to  get  free,  and,  in  1575, 
he  revisited  his  native  country. 

In  the  wars  between  the  Catholics  and  the  Protestants,  Tavannes 
was  an  indefatigable  scourge  of  the  latter.  On  one  occasion, 
while  he  was  governor  of  Auxonne,  he  was  in  no  small  danger ; 
he  was  surprised  and  wounded  in  a  church  by  the  enemy,  and 
was  confined  in  a  castle.  Yet  though  the  wall  was  a  hundred 
feet  high,  and  he  was  guarded  in  sight,  he  contrived  to  escape. 
In  the  war  of  the  League,  against  both  Henries,  he  rendered 
himself  conspicuous  by  his  violence  and  perseverance.  He  pro- 
posed to  arm  the  people  with  pikes,  but  this  proposal  was  over- 
ruled, on  the  ground  that  it  tended  to  excite  in  their  minds  the 
idea  of  a  republic.  In  attempting  to  relieve  Noyon,  he  was  again 
made  prisoner;  he  was,  however,  soon  exchanged,  the  mother, 
wife,  and  two  sisters  of  the  Duke  of  Longueville  being  given  as 
an  equivalent  for  him.  In  1592,  he  was  appointed  to  the  govern- 
ment of  Burgundy,  and  he  maintained  the  contest  till  1595,  when, 
being  abandoned  by  all  his  companions  in  the  cause,  he  yielded  a 
sullen  submission  to  Henry. 

Having  refused  to  join  the  king  at  the  siege  of  Amiens,  he  was 
arrested,  in  1597, and  committed  to  the  Bastile.  Tavannes  had  cer- 
tainly a  talent  for  escaping;  we  have  seen  that  he  twice  extricated 
himself  from  confinement,  and  now  he  did  so  for  the  third  time. 
By  what  means  he  eluded  the  vigilance  of  his  gaolers  does  not 
appear.  Henry  seems  to  have  cherished  no  very  strong  resent- 
ment against  the  fugitive ;  for,  instead  of  placing  him  in  surer 
custody,  he  allowed  him  to  reside  unmolested  on  his  estate,  where 
Tavannes  died,  about  the  year  1630.  The  viscount  published  a 
life  of  his  father,  a  curious  and  valuable  work;  of  which,  how- 
ever, some  passages  are  animated  by  a  spirit  dishonourable  to  the 
writer. 

That  Tavannes,  who  was  long  his  determined  enemy,  and  never 
professed  to  have  become  his  friend,  should  be  openly  or  secretly 
hostile  to  him,  could  excite  no  surprise  in  Henry;  but  his  feelings 
must  have  received  a  deep  wound,  when  he  discovered  that  he 
might  say,  with  the  inspired  royal  Psalmist,  "  Yea,  mine  own 
familiar  friend,  in  whom  I  trusted,  which  did  eat  of  my  bread, 
hath  lifted  his  heel  against  me." 
8 


114  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Charles  de  Gontaut,  Duke  of  Biron,  the  son  of  a  man  dis- 
tinguished for  his  honour,  loyalty,  valour,  and  martial  exploits, 
was  born  about  1562,  and  inherited  his  father's  warlike  spirit, 
but  not  his  praiseworthy  qualities.  In  his  childhood,  he  was  so 
dull  of  apprehension  that  he  could  scarcely  be  taught  to  read. 
In  his  military  studies  he  must,  however,  have  made  early  and 
extraordinary  progress;  for  at  fourteen  he  was  colonel  of  the 
Swiss  regiments,  and  when  he  was  only  fifteen,  the  command  of 
the  army  in  Guienne  was  entrusted  to  him  for  some  weeks  by 
his  father,  who  had  broken  one  of  his  thighs.  His  religion  we 
may  believe  to  have  hung  loosely  enough  upon  him,  as  he  twice 
changed  it  before  he  reached  his  sixteenth  year. 

There  were  two  crying  sins  of  the  age,  duelling  and  gaming, 
in  which  Biron  made  himself  conspicuous.  He  was  not  yet 
twenty,  when  he  fought  a  duel  with  the  Prince  of  Carency,  who 
was  a  rival  suitor  to  the  heiress  of  the  family  of  Caumont.  Each 
party  had  two  seconds,  all  of  whom  were  in  habits  of  friend- 
ship with  each  other.  It  was  in  a  snow-storm,  at  day  break,  that 
the  combatants  met;  and,  by  taking  their  ground  so  that  the  snow 
drove  into  the  faces  of  their  antagonists,  Biron  and  his  seconds 
contrived  to  destroy  them.  This  triple  murder  was  pardoned  by 
Henry  the  Third,  at  the  request  of  the  Duke  of  Epernon.  As  a 
gamester,  Biron  played  so  deeply,  and  with  such  infatuated  perse- 
verance, that  he  himself  said,  "1  know  not  whether  I  shall  die  on 
the  scaffold;  but,  if  I  do  not,  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  die  in  a  work- 
house." 

The  scaffold  which,  with  somewhat  of  a  divining  spirit,  he 
seems  to  have  thought  his  not  improbable  doom,  was  more  than 
once  predicted  to  him.  The  basis  on  which  one  prediction  was 
built  may  excite  a  smile.  "The  Archbishop  of  Lyons,"  says  an 
old  writer,  "judged  better  than  any  one  else  of  the  nature  of  men 
by  their  countenances.  For  having  one  day  curiously  contem- 
plated the  features  and  characters  of  the  Marshal  Biron's  face,  he 
pronounced  that  he  had  an  exceedingly  bad  physiognomy,  verily 
that  of  a  man  who  was  fated  to  perish  wretchedly."  On  surer 
grounds,  on  a  knowledge  of  his  son's  disposition,  his  father  some- 
times said  to  him,  "Baron,"  (that  was  his  early  title,)  "I  advise 
you  to  go  and  plant  cabbages  on  your  estate,  as  soon  as  peace  is 
made;  for,  otherwise,  you  will  certainly  lose  your  head  at  the 
Greve." 

The  faults  of  Biron  were,  indeed,  such  as  to  justify  melancholy 
forebodings  with  respect  to  his  end.  He  was  vain,  imperious, 
passionate,  restlessly  active,  so  greedy  of  praise  that  he  deemed 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  115 

himself  robbed  of  all  that  was  given  to  others,  so  high  an  estimater 
of  his  own  services  that  he  never  thought  them  enough  rewarded, 
and  so  reckless  of  speech,  that,  when  he  was  in  an  angry  mood, 
his  invectives  and  reproaches  did  not  spare  even  the  sovereign. 
These  faults  were  rendered  more  dangerous  to  him  by  his  habits 
of  profusion,  and  the  consequent  occasional  emptiness  of  his  purse, 
which  laid  him  open  to  temptation,  especially  during  his  fits  of 
dissatisfaction  and  disgust.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  beyond  all 
doubt  that  Biron,  for  some  years  after  the  outset  of  his  career,  was 
devoted  to  Henry  the  Fourth;  he  was  eminently  intrepid,  displayed 
unwearied  zeal,  gave  an  admirable  example  of  discipline,  and 
was  a  consummate  master  of  his  profession.  "No  one,"  said 
Henry,  "  has  a  keener  eye  in  reconnoitering  an  enemy,  nor  a  more 
ready  hand  at  arraying  an  army." 

At  the  battles  of  Arques,  Ivry,  and  Aumale,  at  the  sieges  of 
Paris  and  Rouen,  and  on  various  other  occasions,  Biron  was  con- 
spicuous among  his  fellow  chiefs.  His  promotion  kept  pace  with 
his  exploits,  and  he  rose  rapidly  to  the  highest  dignities.  In  1592, 
Henry  appointed  him  admiral  of  France,  and,  in  1594,  a  marshal ; 
on  receiving  the  latter  rank  he  gave  up  the  office  of  admiral, 
which  Villars  demanded  as  a  part  of  his  reward  for  the  surrender 
of  Rouen.  It  has  been  imagined  that  Biron  cherished  a  ran- 
kling resentment  for  the  deprivation  of  the  admiralship ;  but  this  is 
more  than  doubtful:  he  appears,  on  the  contrary,  to  have  acceded 
to  it  with  a  good  grace.  In  1595,  he  obtained  the  government  of 
Burgundy,  and  his  life  was  saved  by  Henry,  at  the  sharp  en- 
counter of  Fontaine-Fran^aise.  After  having  manifested  his 
wonted  military  talents  at  the  siege  of  Amiens,  in  1598,  Biron 
attained  the  zenith  of  his  elevation,  by  being  created  a  duke  and 
peer.  When  the  deputies  of  the  parliament  waited  on  the  king, 
in  Picardy,  to  congratulate  him  on  the  success  of  his  arms,  he 
paid  to  the  new-made  peer  one  of  those  well-turned  compliments 
by  which  he  so  often  delighted  his  warriors  and  statesmen.  In 
turning  to  account  that  part  of  "  the  cheap  defence  of  nations" 
which  consists  in  gracefully  bestowing  praise,  no  man  was  more 
of  a  proficient  than  Henry.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he  to  the  depu- 
ties, "  I  introduce  to  you  the  Marshal  de  Biron,  whom  I  present 
with  equal  success  to  my  enemies  and  my  friends." 

Thenceforth,  thanks  to  his  own  folly,  the  star  of  Biron  gradu- 
ally declined  till  it  set  in  blood.  He  soon  became  unsafe  to  be 
opposed  to  the  king's  enemies,  and  unworthy  of  being  presented 
to  his  friends.  Vanity  and  prodigality  were  the  faults  which  be- 
gan his  ruin ;  the  one  led  him  to  think  that  his  superlative  merit 


116  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  inadequately  requited,  the  other  caused  him  to  accuse  Henry 
of  avarice  and  ingratitude,  because  the  monarch  did  not  feed  his 
extravagance  with  boundless  supplies.  Biron  might,  neverthe- 
less, have  stopped  short  of  destruction,  had  there  not  been  per- 
petually a  tempter  at  his  ear,  whispering  sinister  counsels.  His 
evil  genius  was  Beauvais  La  Nocle,  sieur  de  La  Fin,  a  veteran 
intriguer,  who  had  spent  his  life  in  disturbing  the  public  peace, 
and  was  still  in  correspondence  with  Spain,  Savoy,  the  banished 
partisans  of  the  League,  and  the  malcontents  in  various  provinces. 
He  is  truly  described  as  having  been  "  an  enterprising,  active,  in- 
sinuating man,  especially  skillful  in  getting  on  the  weak  side  of 
those  whom  he  wished  to  seduce.  Bold  with  the  rash,  circum- 
spect with  the  prudent,  he  seemed  to  give  himself  up  entirely  to 
his  accomplices,  that  he  might  provide  for  his  own  safety  at  their 
expense."  Henry,  who  well  knew  the  character  of  the  man, 
warned  Biron  against  him,  but  the  warning  was  slighted.* 

The  peace  of  Vervins,  which  relieved  France  from  a  burden- 
some war,  precipitated  the  fall  of  Biron.  Even  before  it  was  con- 
cluded, he  had  listened  to  the  blandishments  of  Spanish  emissa- 
ries, and  had  suffered  them  to  tempt  his  ambition  with  the  prospect 
of  independent  sovereignty,  but  he  had  stopped  short  on  the 
verge  of  disloyalty.  While  his  mind  was  thus  susceptible  of  trea- 
sonable infection,  he  was  unfortunately  dispatched  by  Henry  to 
Brussels,  for  the  purpose  of  interchanging,  with  the  archduke,  the 
customary  oaths  as  to  the  faithful  performance  of  the  treaty. 
There  he  was  surrounded  by  every  imaginable  seduction.  He 
was  "  the  observed  of  all  observers;"  the  most  splendid  entertain- 
ments were  given,  expressly  in  honour  of  him ;  and  he  heard  no- 
thing but  exaggerated  praises  of  his  transcendent  valour  and  skill, 
insidious  expressions  of  regret  that  he  should  serve  a  master  so 
blind  to  his  worth,  or  so  meanly  jealous  of  it,  and  highly-coloured 
representations  of  the  glorious  career  which  he  might  run,  if  he 
would  devote  his  talents  to  the  cause  of  the  Spanish  sovereign. 
When  it  was  imagined  that  his  head  was  sufficiently  turned,  a 
treaty  with  Philip  was  proposed  to  him.  But  he  was  not  yet 
prepared  to  go  thus  far ;  he  would  give  no  more  than  a  vague 
promise  to  join  the  Catholics,  in  case  of  their  rising  against  Henry, 
and  he  returned  to  Paris  only  half  a  traitor. 

That  which  had  been  begun  in  the  Netherlands  was  completed 

*  Henry  pointed  his  advice  with  a  pun,  which  is  not  translatable.  He  recom- 
mended to  Biron,  "  Qu'il  1'otat  d'aupres  de  lui,  sinon  que  La  Fin  I'affineroit." 
In  English,  if  such  a  deceiver's  name  were  Cousin,  we  might  similariy  say,  "  If 
you  do  not  get  rid  of  that  Cousin,  he  will  cozen  you." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  117 

in  France.  During  the  troubles  of  the  League,  the  Duke  of  Sa- 
voy, Charles  Emmanuel,  had  seized  upon  the  marquisate  of 
Saluzzo.  Hitherto  he  had  held  nearly  undisturbed  possession  of 
it,  but  Henry,  now  that  he  was  relieved  from  the  pressure  of 
foreign  and  domestic  hostility,  resolved  to  recover  a  territory  which 
was  of  importance  from  its  affording  a  passage  into  Italy.  For 
the  same  reason,  the  duke  was  anxious  to  retain  it ;  he  could  not 
see  without  apprehension  and  disgust  a  powerful  neighbour  con- 
stantly posted  within  a  few  miles  of  his  capital.  In  the  hope  of 
prevailing  on  Henry  to  cede  the  marquisate  to  him,  the  duke 
adopted  the  plan  of  visiting  the  French  court.  Charles  Emma- 
nuel had  seductive  manners,  and  a  ready  eloquence,  and  he  con- 
cealed profound  dissimulation  under  the  semblance  of  openness 
and  sincerity.  Henry,  however,  though  he  treated  him  with  an 
almost  ostentatious  kindness  and  pomp,  was  inflexible  on  the  main 
point,  and  the  duke  found  himself  under  the  necessity  of  signing 
a  disadvantageous  treaty. 

But  Charles  Emmanuel  had  not  relied  solely  on  the  policy  or 
the  generosity  of  Henry ;  he  knew  that  the  embers  of  disaffection 
were  still  alive  in  some  of  the  French  nobles,  and  he  hoped  to  fan 
them  into  a  flame  which  should  scorch  the  monarch.  To  win  the 
discontented  to  his  side,  he  scattered  with  a  lavish  hand  his  lar- 
gesses, under  the  disguise  of  presents.  Though  from  some  of 
those  whom  he  tempted  he  failed  to  procure  an  explicit  avowal  of 
their  sentiments,  he  doubted  not  that  they  might  be  reckoned  upon 
in  case  of  an  explosion  ;  others  spoke  out  more  plainly ;  and  Biron 
threw  himself  unreservedly  into  the  arms  of  the  wily  Savoyard. 
It  was  partly,  perhaps,  by  ministering  to  the  marshal's  wants,  but 
much  more  by  rousing  his  wrath  against  the  king,  that  the  duke 
succeeded  in  making  him  a  traitor.  He  artfully  communicated  to 
him  some  depreciating  language  which  Henry  was  said  to  have 
used,  and  the  vain  and  passionate  Biron  no  longer  hesitated  to 
cast  off  his  allegiance.  The  reward  of  his  treason  was  to  be  the 
sovereignty  of  Burgundy,  and  the  hand  of  one  of  Charles  Emma- 
nuel's daughters.  Yet  at  the  moment  when  he  was  rushing  head- 
long into  rebellion,  he  publicly  refused  to  accept  a  present  of  two 
fine  horses  from  the  Duke  of  Savoy;  assigning  as  the  reason, that 
it  would  not  become  him  to  receive  gifts  from  a  prince  between 
whom  and  his  own  sovereign  there  were  differences  existing. 
Thus  hypocrisy  was  added  to  the  list  of  his  vices. 

Imagining  that  the  succour  which  he  expected  from  the  Spanish 
court,  and  the  movements  of  the  French  malcontents,  Avould  ren- 
der it  impossible  for  Henry  to  attack  him,  Charles  Emmanuel,  on 


118  ^  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

his  return  to  Turin,  refused  to  carry  the  treaty  into  effect.  Henry 
determined,  therefore,  to  resort  to  force.  To  Biron,  of  whose 
fidelity  he  did  not  yet  doubt,  he  offered  the  command  of  the  army; 
and  the  marshal,  in  order  to  avoid  suspicion,  was  compelled  to 
accept  it.  All  that,  without  betraying  himself,  he  could  do  to  shun 
success,  he  did.  But  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  relying  on  his  intrigues, 
had  left  his  fortresses  scantily  provided  with  the  means  of  defence, 
and  they  consequently  made  only  a  feeble  resistance,  in  spite  of 
Biron's  wishes  and  faulty  measures.  It  was  a  fatal  circumstance 
for  the  Savoyard  prince,  that  the  power  of  Spain  was  palsied  by 
the  recent  accession  of  the  contemptible  Philip  the  Third.  Had 
the  second  Philip  been  alive,  the  Viceroy  of  Milan,  the  Count  de 
Fuentes,  a  deadly  foe  of  Henry,  would  probably  have  led  his  nu- 
merous forces  from  the  Milanese,  and  made  the  contest  something 
like  what  the  duke  had  vauntingly  threatened  to  make  it,  "  a  forty 
years'  affair."  As  it  was,  Fuentes  could  only  recommend  to 
Biron,  to  seize  the  king  and  send  him  to  Spain,  "  where,"  said  he, 
contemptuously,  "  he  shall  be  well  treated,  and  we  will  divert  him 
with  dancing,  and  banqueting  among  the  ladies."  Biron  shrank 
from  this  step,  yet,  in  one  of  his  furious  outbreaks  of  passion,  he 
meditated  a  fouler  crime.  At  the  siege  of  fort  St.  Catherine,  know- 
ing that  the  king  was  about  to  visit  the  trenches,  he  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  the  governor  to  point  his  cannon  in  a  certain  part  of  them, 
and  to  place  in  another  a  company  of  musketeers,  who  were  to 
fire  when  a  signal  was  given.  But  he  quickly  repented  of  his 
purpose,  and  kept  the  king  from  approaching  the  perilous  spots. 

Though  the  marshal  renounced  the  base  idea  of  becoming  the 
murderer  of  his  soveriegn,  he  did  not  renounce  his  plots  against 
him.  La  Fin  was  still  employed  in'  negotiating  for  him  with  the 
Count  de  Fuentes,  and  a  second  treaty  was  agreed  upon  at  Milan. 
It  was  arranged  that  the  Duke  of  Savoy  should  sign  a  peace, 
which,  however,  he  was  to  break  as  soon  as  the  French  armies 
were  withdrawn,  and  the  Spanish  troops  were  ready ;  that  the 
Spanish  monarch  should  give  to  the  marshal  the  title  of  his  lieu- 
tenant-general, and  secure  to  him  Burgundy,  and  a  princess  of 
Spain  or  Savoy :  and  that,  in  case  of  the  war  being  unsuccessful, 
he  should  be  indemnified  for  his  loss  by  the  payment  of  twelve 
hundred  thousand  golden  crowns,  and  an  annuity  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand. 

By  this  time  the  suspicions  of  Henry  began  to  be  awakened 
with  regard  to  Biron.  There  were  many  circumstances  which 
conspired  to  rouse  them ;  not  one  of  the  least  of  which  was  the  in- 
comprehensible apathy  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy ;  who,  as  he  scarcely 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  119 

made  an  effort  to  defend  himself,  must  be  supposed  to  look  for 
deliverance  by  some  unknown  means.  Rumours,  too,  began  to 
be  spread  of  dark  and  dangerous  intrigues;  and  it  is  probable, 
that  the  manner  in  which  the  military  operations  were  conducted 
by  the  marshal,  so  unlike  his  wonted  vigour,  was  not  unremarked. 
All  this  appears  to  have  induced  Henry  to  refuse  to  give  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  citadel  of  Bourgto  Biron,  who  urgently  requested  it. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Biron  wished  to  be  master  of  this 
citadel,  solely  to  enable  him  the  better  to  act  in  concert  with  Charles 
Emmanuel ;  yet  he  considered  as  an  inexpiable  insult  the  king's 
refusal  to  grant  it. 

No  longer  doubting  that  the  marshal  had  become  entangled  in 
dangerous  projects,  and  anxious  to  save  a  man  whom  he  loved, 
Henry  took  the  step  of  coming  to  a  personal  explanation  with  him. 
Taking  Biron  aside,  in  the  cloister  of  the  Cordeliers,  at  Lyons,  he 
questioned  him  as  to  the  purpose  and  cause  of  the  correspondence 
which  he  carried  on  with  the  enemies  of  the  state,  promising,  at 
the  same  time,  a  full  pardon  for  all  past  errors.  Thus  caught  by 
surprise  and  pressed,  the  marshal  could  not  wholly  deny  his  fault, 
but  he  described  it  so  as  to  make  it  appear  only  venial ;  suppressed 
everything  that  it  was  important  for  the  king  to  know ;  and  affirmed 
that,  though  he  was  tempted  by  the  prospect  of  marrying  a  prin- 
cess of  Savoy,  he  should  never  for  a  moment  have  wavered  in  his 
duty  had  he  not  been  refused  the  government  of  the  citadel  of 
Bourg.  Without  seeking  to  penetrate  deeper  into  the  mystery, 
Henry  embraced  him,  and  said,  "Well,  marshal,  do  you  think  no 
more  about  Bourg,  and,  for  my  part,  I  will  never  remember  what 
has  occurred."  The  king,  however,  hinted  that  a  relapse  would 
be  productive  of  dangerous  effects. 

In  the  following  year,  1601,  Biron  was  sent  as  ambassador  to 
England,  to  announce  to  Elizabeth  the  marriage  of  Henry.  He 
was  accompanied  by  the  Counts  of  Auvergne  and  Chateauroux, 
the  Marquis  de  Crequi,  and  a  splendid  train  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  gentlemen.  Elizabeth  received  him  in  the  most  flattering 
manner ;  but  there  was  one  of  her  conversations  with  him  which 
might  well  have  excited  ominous  thoughts  in  his  mind.  Essex 
had  recently  suffered.  Speaking  of  that  nobleman,  she  said,  "I 
raised  him  to  the  most  eminent  dignities,  and  he  enjoyed  all  my 
favour;  but  the  rash  man  had  the  audacity  to  imagine  that  I  could 
not  do  without  him.  His  too  prosperous  fortune  and  his  ambition 
rendered  him  haughty,  perfidious,  and  the  more  criminal  from  his 
having  seemed  to  be  virtuous.  He  suffered  a  just  punishment ; 
and  if  the  king  my  brother  would  take  my  advice,  he  would  act 


120  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

at  Paris  as  I  have  done  here.  He  ought  to  sacrifice  to  his  safety 
all  the  rebels  and  traitors.  God  grant  that  his  clemency  may  not 
prove  fatal  to  him.  For  my  part,  1  will  never  show  any  mercy 
to  those  who  dare  to  disturb  the  peace  of  the  realm."  Biron 
must  surely  have  felt  his  heart  sink  within  him,  when  he  heard 
this  language,  which,  in  all  ways,  was  so  applicable  to  himself. 
It  is  said,  and  we  may  easily  believe  it,  that  he  omitted  to  mention 
this  speech,  when  he  gave  an  account  of  his  embassy. 

The  forbearance  of  Henry,  and  the  lesson  of  Elizabeth,  were 
alike  powerless  to  check  the  downward  career  of  the  infatuated 
Biron.  His  treasonable  practices  were  still  persevered  in.  After 
his  return  from  England,  he  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  Soleure, 
to  ratify  a  treaty  with  the  Swiss,  and  on  his  way  thither,  he 
had  a  four  hours'  conversation  with  Watteville,  the  Duke  of  Sa- 
voy's agent.  Instead  of  proceeding  to  Paris,  to  render  an  account 
of  his  mission,  he  stayed  at  Dijon,  the  capital  of  his  government, 
where  the  violent  and  insulting  language  in  which  he  spoke  of 
the  king,  gave  abundant  proof  that  little  reliance  could  be  placed 
upon  his  fidelity.  In  the  meanwhile,  various  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
particularly  Poitou,  the  Limousin,  and  Perigord,  in  the  last  of 
which  provinces  the  marshal  had  numerous  partisans  and  vassals, 
were  thrown  into  a  ferment  by  insidious  reports  of  Henry's  tyran- 
nical intentions.  Among  the  nobles, also, discontent  was  at  work; 
the  Duke  of  Bouillon  and  the  Count  of  Auvergne  were  the  prin- 
cipal malcontents.  The  provinces  Henry  quieted  by  the  kindness 
which  he  displayed,  in  a  journey  through  them;  the  nobles  were 
not  so  easily  to  be  reclaimed.  It  was  obvious  that  a  speech  which 
the  Duke  of  Savoy  made,  after  his  leaving  France,  was  not  a 
mere  idle  vaunt.  His  friends  rallying  him  on  his  failure,  and 
alluding  to  the  season  at  which  he  came  home,  told  him  that  he 
had  brought  nothing  but  mud  back  from  France.  "  If  I  have  put 
my  feet  into  the  mud,"  replied  the  duke,  "  I  have  put  them  in  so 
far,  and  have  left  such  deep  marks  behind,  that  France  will  never 
efface  them." 

While,  within  the  kingdom,  men's  minds  were  in  this  uneasy 
state,  the  news  from  without  was  by  no  means  consolatory.  Philip 
Dufresne  Canaye,  the  French  ambassador  at  Venice,  was  laudably 
active  in  procuring  information  of  all  movements  among  the  Italian 
powers,  by  which  his  country  might  be  affected.  He  learned  that, 
while  throughout  Italy  the  utmost  pains  were  taken  to  blacken  the 
character  and  depreciate  the  resources  of  Henry,  French  subjects, 
disguised,  were  busy  at  Turin  and  Milan,  and  that  they  had  fre- 
quent nocturnal  interviews  with  the  ministers  of  the  two  courts. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  121 

He  described  minutely  the  features,  demeanour,  and  dress  of  these 
emissaries,  and  offered  to  have  one  of  them  seized,  and  carried 
off  to  France,  if  a  small  remittance  were,  sent  to  him.  Some 
strange  lethargy  seems  to  have  come  over  the  king  and  the  French 
ministry  at  this  moment :  for  they  not  only  refused  the  money 
which  was  required,  but  even  failed  to  send  that  which  was  indis- 
pensable for  the  payment  of  his  spies. 

From  this  ill-timed  slumber  they  would  probably  have  been 
startled  up  by  a  fatal  explosion,  had  not  the  catastrophe  been 
averted  by  a  disclosure  of  nearly  all  that  related  to  the  plot  which 
had  so  long  been  carried  on.  The  terrible  secret  was  divulged 
by  that  very  La  Fin  who  had  so  largely  contributed  to  lead  Biron 
astray.  La  Fin's  first  feeling  of  alienation  from  the  great  con- 
spirator is  supposed  to  have  arisen  out  of  the  only  act  for  which, 
during  a  considerable  period,  the  marshal  had  been  deserving  of 
praise.  From  Biron's  sudden  abandonment  of  the  plan  to  kill 
the  king,  in  the  trenches  of  fort  St.  Catherine,  his  confidant  drew 
the  conclusion  that  his  firmness  was  not  to  be  relied  upon,  and 
that  consequently,  at  some  time  or  other,  he  might  bring  ruin 
upon  those  who  were  connected  with  him.  That  he  might  have 
the  means  of  shielding  himself  in  case  of  such  an  event,  he  im- 
mediately began  to  preserve  all  the  papers  that  passed  through 
his  hands;  and  when  the  marshal  desired  him  to  burn  any  of 
them  before  his  face,  he,  by  a  dextrous  sleight,  contrived  to  throw 
others  into  the  fire  in  their  stead. 

Still  La  Fin  continued  to  be  employed  in  his  perilous  office  of 
a  negotiator.  It  is  probable,  however,  that,  now  his  fears  were 
excited,  and  it  was  become  a  main  object  with  him  to  keep  open 
a  door  for  escape,  he  did  not  display  the  same  alacrity  and  zeal  as 
before.  Biron  did  not  suspect  him,  but  the  more  cautious  and 
penetrating  Count  de  Fuentes  did:  and  his  suspicions  are  said  to 
have  been  strengthened  by  some  words  which  dropped  from  La 
Fin.  Those  suspicions  the  count  took  especial  care  to  conceal 
from  the  person  who  had  inspired  them.  "  Dead  men,"  says  the 
proverb,  "tell  no  tales;"  and  the  case  is  much  the  same  with 
men  entombed  alive  in  a  dungeon.  Fuentes  thought  it  prudent 
to  provide  against  the  danger  of  a  betrayal,  by  getting  rid  of  La 
Fin.  In  order  to  effect  this,  he  found  a  pretext  for  requesting  him 
to  pass  through  Piedmont,  on  his  way  to  France.  Either  La  Fin 
had  some  misgiving  as  to  the  intention  of  the  Spanish  viceroy,  or 
chance  served  him  well;  for,  instead  of  going  himself  to  Turin, 
he  took  the  road  through  Switzerland,  and  sent  Renaze,  his  con- 
fidential secretary,  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  Renaze  was  immedi- 


122  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

ately  arrested,  and  carried  to  the  Castle  of  Chiari.  It  was  in  vain 
that  La  Fin  strove  to  interest  the  marshal  in  behalf  of  the  secre- 
tary; Biron  spoke  coldly  of  the  captive,  as  a  man  who  must  be 
sacrificed  for  the  safety  of  the  rest;  and  he  is  said  even  to  have  ad- 
vised his  confidant  to  take  secret  measures  for  effectually  silencing 
all  who  had  been  the  companions  of  his  travels,  or  could  give  any 
clue  to  his  proceedings.  Already,  though  he  seems  not  to  have 
had  the  slightest  idea  that  La  Fin  would  be  unfaithful  to  him,  he 
had  deemed  it  politic  to  transfer  his  dangerous  confidence  to  the 
Baron  de  Luz,  his  cousin,  and  two  subordinate  agents.  Of  this 
La  Fin  obtained  information ;  and  it  did  not  tend  to  quiet  his  fears. 
It  might  be  thought  advisable  to  make  him  share  the  fate  of  Re- 
naze.  But,  even  supposing  this  not  to  happen,  he  saw  plainly 
that  the  violent  conduct  of  Biron  towards  the  king  must  inevitably 
soon  bring  matters  to  extremities,  and  that,  if  the  conspirators 
failed,  which  it  was  highly  probable  they  would,  his  own  life 
would  be  periled  beyond  redemption.  His  nephew,  the  vidame 
of  Chartres,  was  also  urgent  with  him  to  secure  his  head  while 
there  was  yet  an  opportunity. 

La  Fin  at  length  passed  the  Rubicon.  He  made  known  to  the 
king,  that  he  had  momentous  secrets  to  communicate.  In  reply, 
he  was  told,  that  he  should  be  rewarded  for  this  service;  but  he 
stipulated  only  for  pardon,  and  it  was  readily  granted.  The  whole 
of  the  proofs  of  Biron's  guilt  were  then  placed  by  him  in  the 
hands  of  Henry,  who  was  deeply  afflicted  by  these  convincing 
testimonies  of  the  marshal's  treason. 

Justice  seems  to  be  degraded,  and  almost  to  change  its  nature, 
when  its  purpose  is  attained  by  fraudulent  means.  The  net  was 
spread  for  Biron,  but  in  quieting  his  fears,  and  luring  him  into  it, 
a  scene  of  trickery  and  falsehood  was  exhibited,  which  cannot  be 
contemplated  without  pain.  Sully  had  set  a  better  example,  by 
a  stratagem  which  is  not  amenable  to  censure.  To  prevent  Biron 
from  maintaining  a  war  in  Burgundy,  the  minister  prudently 
withdrew  from  the  fortresses  of  that  province  the  greatest  part  of 
the  cannon  and  gunpowder,  on  the  plea  that  the  former  were 
damaged  and  ought  to  be  recast,  and  the  latter  was  weakened  by 
age,  and  must  be  re-manufactured,  and  he  took  care  not  to  replace 
them.  The  right  arm  of  Biron's  strength  was  thus  cut  off.  The 
marshal,  nevertheless,  might  still  take  flight ;  he  had  more  than 
once  evaded  a  summons  to  confer  with  Henry;  and  it  was  of 
primary  importance  to  secure  his  person.  As  alarm  might  be 
excited  by  La  Fin  journeying  to  court,  he  was  instructed  to  write 
to  the  marshal,  that  the  king  had  required  his  presence,  that  he 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  123 

could  not  refuse  to  comply  without  giving  rise  to  surmises;  and 
that  nothing  should  drop  from  his  lips  which  could  prejudice  his 
friend.  In  the  allusions  which  it  made,  and  the  caution  which  it 
recommended,  the  reply  of  Biron  furnished  additional  evidence 
of  his  guilt.  The  monarch,  too,  played  his  part  in  the  deception. 
To  the  Baron  de  Luz,  who  had  been  sent  from  Burgundy  to  ob- 
serve what  was  going  on,  and  was  about  to  return  to  that  province, 
he  spoke  of  the  marshal  in  terms  of  kindness,  and  declared  that 
his  heart  was  lightened  by  a  conversation  which  he  had  held  with 
La  Fin,  as  it  proved  that  many  of  the  charges  brought  against 
Biron  were  wholly  unfounded.  La  Fin,  at  the  same  time,  assured 
the  marshal  that  the  king  was  entirely  satisfied,  and  would  receive 
him  with  open  arms.  Deluded  by  these  artifices,  Biron  deter- 
mined to  join  Henry  at  Fontainebleau,  notwithstanding  that  the 
incredulous  de  Luz,  and  others  of  his  adherents,  strenuously  en- 
deavoured to  dissuade  him.  Various  circumstances,  ominous  of 
evil,  are  said  to  have  preceded  his  departure.  On  his  road  he 
received  more  than  one  warning  from  his  well-wishers,  but  he 
spurned  them  all,  and  proceeded  to  Fontainebleau.  As  he  was 
descending  from  his  horse,  he  was  saluted  by  the  traitorous  La 
Fin,  who  whispered,  "Courage  and  wary  speech,  my  master! 
they  know  nothing."  His  belief  in  these  words  consummated 
the  ruin  of  Biron. 

In  spite  of  Biron's  faults,  the  heart  of  Henry  still  yearned 
towards  him.  Though  he  could  not  greet  the  offender  with  his 
customary  warmth  and  frankness,  he  received  him  graciously, 
and  led  him  through  the  palace  pointing  out  the  improvements 
which  had  been  made.  At  length  he  touched  upon  the  delicate 
subject  of  the  marshal's  deviation  from  the  path  of  duty.  He 
hinted  that  he  had  incontrovertible  proof,  but  assured  him  that  an 
honest  confession  would  cancel  everything,  and  replace  him  on 
the  summit  of  favour.  Misled  by  his  pride,  and  the  fatal  mis- 
take that  his  secret  was  safe,  Biron,  instead  of  seizing  this  oppor- 
tunity to  extricate  himself  from  danger,  was  mad  enough  to  assume 
the  lofty  tone  of  conscious  and  wronged  innocence ;  studiously 
cold  in  his  general  manner,  he  sometimes  verged  upon  insolence, 
and  he  loudly  declared,  that  he  came  not  to  justify  his  conduct, 
but  to  demand  vengeance  upon  those  who  had  slandered  him,  or, 
if  need  were,  to  take  it.  Twice  more,  in  the  course  of  the  day — 
once  in  person,  and  once  through  Biron's  friend,  the  Count  of 
Soissons — Henry  renewed  his  efforts,  and  was  haughtily  repulsed. 
On  the  morrow  the  monarch  returned  to  the  charge,  and  made 
other  two  attempts  to  save  the  marshal  from  the  gulf  which  was 


124  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

opening  to  receive  him.  Oblivion  for  the  past,  friendship  for  the 
future,  were  earnestly  offered  to  his  acceptance.  But  Biron  was 
like  the  deaf  adder;  he  even  broke  out  into  a  fit  of  passion  on 
being  pressed  for  the  last  time ;  and  Henry  was  reluctantly  com- 
pelled to  resign  him  to  his  fate. 

It  is  probable  that  the  king  would  have  borne  with  Biron  for  a 
while  longer,  had  not  the  terrors,  entreaties,  and  tears  of  his  con- 
sort impelled  him  to  decisive  measures.  Mary  of  Medicis  believed 
that  it  was  a  part  of  the  policy  of  Spain  to  cut  off  the  royal  family, 
and  she  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  what,  in  the  case  of  a  minority, 
might  happen  to  herself  and  her  offspring  from  the  hostility  of  a 
man  who  was  in  all  ways  so  formidable  as  Biron.  The  king  him- 
self had  already  betrayed  the  same  apprehension  to  Sully.  After 
having,  in  melancholy  terms,  confessed  his  lingering  affection  for 
the  marshal,  he  added,  «•  But  all  my  dread  is,  that,  were  I  to  par- 
don him,  he  would  never  pardon  me,  or  my  children,  or  my  king- 
dom." The  gates  of  mercy  were  in  consequence  shut  upon  the 
dangerous  criminal. 

Biron  had  been  in  the  habit  of  contemptuously  reflecting  upon 
the  character  of  Essex,  for  what  he  considered  as  a  cowardly  sur- 
render, and  of  maintaining  that  a  man  of  spirit  ought  rather  to 
suffer  himself  to  be  cut  to  pieces,  than  run  the  risk  of  dying  by 
the  headsman's  axe.  The  time  was  now  come  when  it  was  to  be 
seen  whether  he  could  practise  his  own  doctrine.  It  was  mid- 
night when  he  quitted  the  presence  of  the  king.  Everything 
had  been  prepared  for  his  arrest,  and  that  of  the  Count  of  Au- 
vergne,  who  was  suspected  of  sharing  in  the  treason.  The  latter 
nobleman  was  taken  into  custody  by  Praslin,  at  the  palace  gate. 
No  sooner  had  Biron  passed  out  of  the  antechamber,  than  Vitry, 
the  captain  of  the  guard,  seized  the  marshal's  arm,  informed  him 
that  he  was  a  prisoner,  and  demanded  his  sword.  At  first  he  sup- 
posed it  to  be  a  jest ;  and,  when  he  was  undeceived,  he  desired 
to  see  the  king,  that  he  might  deliver  the  weapon  into  his  hands. 
He  was  told  that  Henry  could  not  be  seen,  and  his  sword  was 
again  required.  "What!"  exclaimed  he  furiously,  "take  the 
sword  from  me,  who  has  served  the  king  so  well  ?  My  sword, 
which  ended  the  war,  and  gave  peace  to  France  !  Shall  the  sword 
which  my  enemies  could  not  wrest  from  me  be  taken  by  my 
friends  ?"  At  length  he  submitted.  When  he  was  led  along  the 
gallery,  through  a  double  line  of  guards,  he  imagined  that  he  was 
going  to  execution,  and  he  wildly  cried  out,  "Companions  !  give 
me  time  to  pray  to  God,  and  put  into  my  hand  a  firebrand,  or  a 
candlestick,  that  I  may  at  least  have  the  comfort  to  die  while  I  am 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  125 

defending  myself."  When,  however,  he  found  that  he  was  in  no 
instant  danger,  he  meanly  endeavoured  to  irritate  the  soldiers 
against  the  king,  by  saying  to  them,  "  You  see  how  good  Catho- 
lics are  treated  !"  He  passed  a  sleepless  and  agitated  night, 
pacing  about  his  chamber,  striking  the  walls,  raving  to  himself, 
and  occasionally  to  the  sentinels,  pouring  forth  invectives  and  im- 
precations, and  sometimes  with  singular  imprudence  striving  to 
seduce  a  valet-de-chambre  of  the  king,  who  watched  him,  to  write 
to  his  secretaries,  directing  them  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  and  to 
maintain,  in  case  of  their  being  taken  and  questioned,  that  he 
never  had  carried  on  any  correspondence  in  cipher. 

From  Fontainebleau  the  prisoners  were  conveyed  by  water  to 
the  Bastile.  During  the  passage,  Biron  was  lost  in  gloomy  reve- 
rie, and  when  he  entered  within  th£  walls  of  the  prison,  his  mind 
was  racked  with  the  worst  forebodings.  Nor  were  the  circum- 
stances attendant  on  his  abode  in  the  Bastile  at  all  of  a  nature  to 
raise  his  spirits.  Placed  in  the  chamber  whence  the  constable 
St.  Pol  had  passed  to  the  scaffold,  watched  with  lynx-eyed  vigi- 
lance, and  so  carefully  kept  from  weapons,  that  he  was  allowed 
only  a  blunted  knife  at  his  meals,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming, 
"  This  is  the  road  to  the  Greve."  While  he  was  in  this  disturbed 
state,  superstitious  weakness  is  said  to  have  lent  its  aid  to  com- 
plete his  distraction.  He  was  told  that  the  Parisian  executioner 
was  a  native  of  Burgundy  ;  and  it  instantly  flashed  into  his  recol- 
lection, that,  having  shown  to  la  Brosse,  an  astrologer,  his  own 
horoscope  under  another  person's  name,  the  wizard  predicted  the 
beheading  of  the  person ;  and  that  Cesar,  a  pretended  magician, 
of  whom  more  will  be  seen  in  the  next  chapter,  had  said,  that  "a 
single  blow  given  behind  by  a  Burgundian  would  prevent  him 
from  attaining  royally."  The  shock  seems  for  the  moment  to 
have  utterly  deprived  him  of  his  senses.  Refusing  to  eat,  or 
drink,  or  sleep,  he  incessantly  raved,  threatened,  and  blasphemed. 
A  visit  from  the  Archbishop  of  Bourges,  who  came  to  offer  the 
consolations  of  religion,  and  who  gave  him  some  hopes  of  mercy 
on  earth,  rendered  Biron  less  violent.  At  the  prisoner's  request, 
Villeroi  and  Silleri,  two  of  the  king's  ministers,  also  visited  him  ; 
and,  either  that  his  brain  was  still  wandering,  or  that  he  thought 
to  establish  a  claim  to  pardon  by  appearing  to  make  important 
discoveries,  or  that  he  was  prompted  by  a  malignant  wish  to  in- 
volve in  his  own  ruin  those  whom  he  hated,  he  is  said  to  have 
charged,  and  in  the  strongest  terms,  a  number  of  innocent  per- 
sons with  being  engaged  in  treasonable  practices.  Whatever  was 
his  motive,  his  purpose  was  frustrated ;  Henry  did  not  thirst  for 


126  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

blood;  and  it  has  been  remarked,  that  the  documents  which,  on 
the  trial,  were  brought  forward  against  the  culprit,  were  not  those 
that  most  forcibly  criminated  him,  but  those  which  criminated  him 
alone. 

While  Biron  was  thus  the  sport  of  his  unruly  passions,  his 
friends  were  actively  employed  in  endeavouring  to  save  him. 
Henry  had  returned  to  the  capital  amidst  the  shouts  and  congra- 
tulations of  his  subjects.  Soon  after  his  arrival,  many  of  the  no- 
bles, some  of  whom  were  of  Biron's  nearest  kindred,  waited  upon 
the  king,  to  intercede  for  the  criminal.  The  Duke  of  la  Force 
was  their  spokesman  ;  he  spoke  on  his  knees,  and,  though  Henry 
desired  him  to  rise,  he  retained  that  posture.  He  pleaded  the 
services  of  the  culprit  and  his  father,  the  Divine  command  to  for- 
give our  enemies,  the  pardon  which  the  king  had  extended  to 
others,  and  especially  the  deep  indelible  stain  which  would  be 
thrown  upon  the  family  by  a  public  execution ;  and,  as  far  as 
was  possible,  he  laboured  to  extenuate  the  marshal's  guilt,  by  re- 
presenting that  it  arose  from  the  warmth  of  his  temper,  and  had 
never  been  carried  beyond  mere  intention.  There  was  one  point 
in  the  duke's  speech  which  it  was,  perhaps,  impolitic  in  him  to 
urge ;  that  in  which  he  stated  himself  to  speak  in  the  name  of  a 
hundred  thousand  men  who  had  served  under  Biron.  This  was 
begging  too  much  in  the  style  of  the  Spanish  beggar  in  Gil  Bias, 
and  was  not  calculated  to  propitiate  a  man  like  Henry. 

The  monarch  answered  temperately,  and  even  kindly,  but  with 
due  firmness.  Reminding  them  that  he  did  not  resemble  some  of 
his  predecessors,  who  would  not  suffer  parents  to  sue  for  their 
children  on  such  an  occasion,  he  declared,  that  the  mercy  for 
which  they  asked  would  in  fact  be  the  worst  of  cruelty.  He 
alluded  to  the  love  which  he  had  always  borne  to  Biron,  and  told 
them,  that,  had  the  offence  been  only  against  himself,  he  would 
willingly  have  forgiven  it,  and  did  forgive  it  as  far  as  related  to 
his  person,  but  that  the  safety  of  his  children,  and  of  the  whole 
kingdom,  was  implicated,  and  he  must  perform  his  duty  to  them. 
With  respect  to  the  disgrace  which  it  was  feared  would  attach  to 
the  relatives  of  the  culprit,  he  treated  the  fear  as  a  visionary  one : 
he  was,  he  said,  himself  descended  from  the  constable  of  St.  Pol 
and  the  Armagnacs,  who  suffered  on  a  scaffold,  yet  he  did  not  feel 
dishonoured.  In  conclusion,  he  assured  them  that,  far  from  de- 
priving the  marshal's  kindred  of  the  titles  and  offices  which  they 
possessed,  he  was  much  more  inclined  to  add  to  the  number,  so 
long  as  they  continued  to  serve  the  state  with  fidelity  and  zeal. 

The  king  having  authorized  the  parliament  to  proceed  to  trial, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  127 

a  deputation  from  that  body,  with  the  first  president  Harlay  at  its 
head,  went  to  the  Bastile,  to  take  the  necessary  examinations,  and 
confront  the  witnesses.  With  only  one  exception,  which  excep- 
tion the  internal  evidence  supplied  by  the  papers  soon  obliged  him 
to  retract,  Biron  recognized  all  the  letters  and  memorials  which 
were  shown  to  him ;  but  he  strove  to  put  an  innocent  construction 
upon  them,  and  as  they  were  written  in  a  studiously  ambiguous 
style,  he  might  have  thrown  doubts  upon  the  subject,  had  they 
been  unsupported  by  oral  testimony.  In  this  stage  of  the  busi- 
ness, he  was  asked  what  was  his  opinion  of  La  Fin  ?  Still  be- 
lieving that  person  to  be  true  to  him,  he  replied  that  he  was  "an 
honourable  gentleman,  a  good  man,  and  his  friend."  The  depo- 
sitions of  La  Fin  were  then  read,  and  he  was  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  prisoner.  The  marshal  now  burst  out  into  the  mo&t 
furious  abuse  of  the  man  whom,  but  a  moment  before,  he  had 
declared  to  be  his  honourable  and  worthy  friend.  "  O  good  God  !" 
exclaims  a  cotemporary  chronicler,  "what  said  he,  and  what  did 
he  not  say !  With  what  more  atrocious  revilings  could  he  have 
torn  to  pieces  the  character  of  the  most  execrable  being  in  the 
world !  With  what  more  horrible  protestations,  with  what  more 
terrible  oaths,  could  he  have  called  upon  men,  angels,  and  God 
himself,  to  be  the  witnesses  and  judges  of  his  innocence!"  La 
Fin,  however,  stood  his  ground  against  the  storm  of  invective ; 
and  supported  his  evidence  by  corroborative  circumstances,  and 
additional  documents  in  the  prisoner's  hand-writing.  It  seemed 
as  though  everything  conspired  against  Biron  at  this  dreadful 
moment.  "If  Renaze,"  said  he,  "were  here,  he  would  prove 
La  Fin  to  be  a  liar."  To  his  utter  surprise  and  consternation, 
the  witness  whom  he  had  invoked,  but  whom  he  imagined  to  be 
dead,  was  suddenly  brought  forward,  and  amply  confirmed  the 
whole  of  La  Fin's  story.  On  the  very  day  that  Biron  was  arrested, 
Renaze  contrived  to  escape  from  the  Castle  of  Chiari,  and  he  now 
sealed  the  fate  of  the  marshal.  Driven  to  his  last  resource,  Biron 
pleaded  the  pardon  which  was  granted  to  him  at  Lyons,  and  pro- 
tested that,  since  he  received  it,  he  had  never  entertained  any 
criminal  designs.  In  this  plea  he  was  no  less  unfortunate  than 
in  the  others.  From  his  own  incautious  avowal,  it  was  gathered 
that  he  did  not  make  a  full  confession  to  the  king;  and  one  of  his 
letters  showed  that  he  had  continued  to  plot  for  many  months  after 
the  monarch  had  forgiven  him. 

The  preliminary  proceedings  being  completed,  three  days  were 
occupied  by  the  parliament  in  going  over  the  mass  of  evidence, 
and  hearing  the  summing  up  of  the  attorney-general.  The  courts 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  justice,  in  those  times,  always  commenced  their  sittings  at  an 
early  hour.  Between  five  and  six  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
fourth  day,  Biron,  closely  guarded,  was  taken  by  water  to  the  hall 
of  the  parliament,  where  a  hundred  and  twelve  of  the  members 
were  in  waiting  to  receive  him;  the  peers  had  unanimously  re- 
fused to  sit  upon  his  trial.  At  the  sight  of  this  array  of  judges 
he  changed  colour,  but  he  soon  recovered  his  self-possession,  and 
is  said  to  have  assumed  a  kind  of  theatrical  air  which  was  scarcely 
decorous.  A  cotemporary  describes  him  as  rudely  bidding  the 
chancellor  speak  louder,  and  as  "  putting  forward  his  right  foot, 
holding  his  mantle  under  his  arm,  with  his  hand  on  his  side,  and 
raising  his  other  hand  to  heaven,  and  smiting  his  breast  with  it, 
whenever  he  called  upon  God  and  the  celestial  beings  to  be  wit- 
nesses of  his  integrity  in  the  service  of  the  king  and  kingdom." 

The  whole  of  the  crimes  attributed  to  him  had  been  arranged 
under  five  heads,  concerning  which  he  was  interrogated  by  the 
chancellor.  The  questioning  and  defence  of  Biron  lasted  between 
four  and  five  hours,  and  it  must  be  owned  that,  in  this  final  strug- 
gle for  life  and  reputation,  he  made  a  noble  stand.  Though,  in 
the  course  of  a  long  speech,  he  sometimes  became  entangled  in 
contradictions,  its  general  tenour  was  well  calculated  to  produce  a 
favourable  effect ;  at  moments  he  was  even  eloquent,  and  worked 
strongly  on  the  feelings  of  his  auditors.  Much  he  denied,  and 
what  he  could  not  deny  he  palliated;  with  respect  to  the  treasons 
charged  against  him,  he  was,  he  said,  the  seduced  and  not  the 
seducer ;  a  man  not  deliberately  wicked,  but  led  astray  by  hateful 
intriguers,  who  wrought  his  violent  passions  into  frenzy,  by  repre- 
senting that  the  monarch  had  undervalued  and  insulted  him — a 
representation  which  seemed  to  be  confirmed  by  his  being  refused 
the  government  of  Bourg  ;  he  pleaded  that  his  errors  had  gone 
no  farther  than  intention,  that  they  had  been  fully  and  freely  par- 
doned, and  had  never  been  repeated ;  he  urged  his  numerous  and 
eminent  services  as  a  counterbalance  to  his  faults,  and  the  mercy 
which  had  uniformly  been  shown  to  far  worse  offenders  as  a  rea- 
son why  it  should  be  extended  to  him;  and  he  repelled,  as  an 
infamous  calumny,  the  accusation  of  having  intended  to  bring 
about  the  death  of  Henry — yet,  imprudent  as  such  language  was, 
he  could  not  forbear  from  broadly  hinting  that  the  monarch  was 
fickle,  unjust,  and  cruel:  "I  rely  more  upon  you,  gentlemen," 
said  he,  "than  I  do  upon  the  king,  who,  having  formerly  looked 
on  me  with  the  eyes  of  his  affection,  no  longer  sees  me  but  with 
the  eye  of  his  hatred,  and  thinks  it  a  virtue  to  be  cruel  to  me,  and 
a  fault  to  exercise  towards  me  an  act  of  clemency."  At  the  close 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  129 

of  his  speech,  few  of  his  hearers  were  unmoved,  but  all  were  un- 
convinced. 

The  most  curious  part  of  his  defence  is  yet  to  be  mentioned. 
If  he  did  not  spare  his  sovereign,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  he 
would  spare  La  Fin.  Whenever  he  mentioned  him  he  could  not 
restrain  his  fury,  but  gave  vent  to  a  flood  of  abuse.  Coining,  and 
an  unnatural  regard  for  Renaze,  were  among  the  numerous  crimes 
which  he  imputed  to  him.  Strange  that  he  did  not  perceive  the 
folly  of  thus  vituperating  a  man,  whom  he  had  so  recently  recog- 
nized as  his  honourable  and  worthy  friend,  and  whose  sins,  if  they 
really  existed,  he  must  then  have  known  !  But  this  was  not  all. 
For  his  vindication  he  mainly  trusted  to  one  plea — that  he  had  not 
been  a  free  agent,  that  he  was  under  the  irresistible  influence  of 
La  Fin,  who  was  a  sorcerer,  and  had  dealings  with  the  devil. — 
He  averred,  seriously,  that  La  Fin  was  in  the  habit  of  breathing 
on  him,  biting  his  ear,  and  kissing  his  left  eye,  and  calling  him 
his  master,  his  lord,  his  prince,  and  his  king  ;  that  whenever  his 
eye  was  kissed  he  felt  a  tendency  to  do  evil ;  that  the  magician 
also  enchanted  him  by  making  him  drink  charmed  waters ;  and 
that  he  showed  him  waxen  images  which  moved  and  spoke,  and 
one  of  which  pronounced,  in  Latin,  the  words,  "Impious  king, 
thou  shalt  perish  !"  "If  by  magic  he  could  give  voice  to  an  in- 
animate body,"  said  he,  "  is  it  wonderful  that  he  should  have  such 
power  over  me  as  to  bend  my  will  to  an  entire  conformity  with 
his  own?" 

Deceived  by  the  compassion  which  some  of  his  judges  had 
manifested,  Biron  cherished  the  flattering  hope  of  an  acquittal. 
His  spirits  were  so  elated  by  this  idea,  that  he  amused  himself 
with  repeating  to  his  guards  various  portions  of  his  defence,  and 
mimicking  the  gestures  and  speeches  which  he  supposed  the 
chancellor  to  have  made  in  the  course  of  the  subsequent  proceed- 
ings. His  vanity,  too,  contributed  to  buoy  him  up.  He  ran  over, 
in  conversation,  the  list  of  French  commanders,  found  some  defect 
in  each  of  them,  and  thence  concluded  that,  as  his  military  talents 
were  obviously  indispensable  to  the  state,  his  life  was  secure. 

The  termination  of  that  life  was,  nevertheless,  rapidly  approach- 
ing. By  an  unanimous  vote,  on  the  day  after  his  appearance  at 
their  bar,  the  parliament  pronounced  Biron  guilty  of  high  treason, 
and  condemned  him  to  lose  his  head  on  the  Greve.  The  place  of 
execution  was  changed  by  the  king  to  the  interior  of  the  Bastile, 
at  the  request,  it  was  said,  of  the  criminal's  friends ;  but  partly, 
perhaps,  in  the  fear  that  a  popular  commotion  might  occur,  and 
partly  because  a  report  was  spread,  that  some  of  his  domestics 
9 


130  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

intended  to  throw  a  sword  to  him  on  the  scaffold,  that  he  might 
at  least  have  the  chance  of  dying  an  honourable  death.  It  was 
wise  not  to  run  the  risk  of  encountering  his  despair. 

The  first  intimation  which  Biron  received  of  his  impending 
doom,  was  from  seeing  that  crowds  were  gathering  together  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Bastile.  The  change  of  time  and  place 
had  not  been  publicly  made  known.  "I  am  sentenced  !  I  am  a 
dead  man!"  he  instantly  exclaimed.  He  then  sent  a  messenger 
to  Sully,  to  request  that  he  would  come  to  him,  or  would  intercede 
with  the  king.  With  these  requests  Sully  declined  to  comply, 
but  he  desired  the  messenger  to  leave  the  marshal  in  doubt  as  to 
the  king's  intention.  On  the  following  morning,  the  last  day  of 
July,  1(502,  the  chancellor,  accompanied  by  some  of  his  officers, 
proceeded  to  the  Bastile,  to  read  the  sentence  to  him,  and  announce 
its  immediate  execution.  Biron  was  at  the  moment  deeply  en- 
gaged in  calculating  his  nativity.  When  he  was  taken  down  to 
the  chancellor,  he  addressed  him  in  an  unconnected  rhapsody  of 
prayers,  lamentations,  invectives,  and  reproaches,  intermingled 
with  protestations  of  innocence,  and  vaunts  of  the  services  which 
he  was  yet  capable  of  rendering  to  the  state.  He  besought  that 
he  might  be  suffered  to  live,  even  though  it  were  in  prison  and  in 
chains  !  It  was  a  considerable  time  before  the  chancellor  could 
obtain  a  hearing,  and  he  was  speedily  interrupted  by  sallies  of 
rage  from  the  marshal,  who  reproached  him  with  hardness  of 
heart,  execrated  La  Fin,  accused  the  king  of  being  revengeful, 
and  the  parliament  of  injustice  in  not  having  allowed  sufficient 
time  for  his  vindication,  and,  finally,  asserted  that  he  was  put  to 
death  because  he  was  a  sincere  Catholic. 

This  burst  of  insane  passion  was  succeeded  by  a  lucid  interval, 
during  which  he  calmly  dictated  his  will,  sent  tokens  of  remem- 
brance to  his  friends,  and  distributed  in  alms  the  money  which  he 
had  about  him.  The  reading  of  some  parts  of  his  sentence  again 
roused  his  irritable  feelings.  When  he  heard  the  charge  of  hav- 
ing intended  to  destroy  the  king,  he  exclaimed,  "That  is  false  ! 
blot  it  out !"  and  when  the  Greve  was  mentioned,  he  declared 
that  no  power  on  earth  should  drag  him  thither,  and  that  he  would 
sooner  be  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  horses,  than  submit  to  such  an 
indignity.  He  was  quieted  by  being  told  of  the  change  which 
had  been  made ;  but  when  it  was  hinted  to  him  that  his  arms  must 
be  bound,  he  relapsed  into  such  violence  that  it  was  thought  ad- 
visable to  leave  his  hands  at  liberty.  He  then  made  his  confession 
to  the  priest;  and  it  was  remarked  that  he,  who  had  just  before 
boasted  of  being  a  good  Catholic,  was  ignorant  of  the  commonest 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  131 

forms  of  prayer,  prayed  more  like  a  soldier  than  a  Christian,  and 
seemed  to  be  thinking  less  of  his  salvation  than  of  the  things  of 
this  world. 

It  being  now  near  five  o'clock,  the  hour  which  was  appointed 
for  the  execution,  he  was  informed  that  he  must  descend  into  the 
court  of  the  prison.  As  he  was  quitting  the  chapel,  he  caught 
sight  of  the  executioner.  "Begone!"  vociferated  he:  "touch  me 
not  till  it  is  time ;  if  you  come  near  me  till  then,  I  swear  that  I 
will  strangle  you!"  He  twice  repeated  the  command  and  the 
threat  when  he  was  at  the  scaffold.  Looking  round  on  the  sol- 
diers, he  mournfully  said,  "  Would  but  some  one  of  you  fire  his 
musket  through  my  body,  how  thankful  I  should  be  !  What 
misery  it  is  to  die  so  wretchedly,  and  by  so  shameful  a  blow !" 
The  sentence  was  then  read  again,  and  again  he  lost  all  patience 
at  being  accused  of  planning  Henry's  death.  It  was  with  much 
difficulty  that  the  clerk  of  the  parliament  completed  the  reading  of 
the  sentence,  his  voice  being  almost  drowned  by  the  clamour  of 
the  prisoner.  Thrice  Biron  tied  a  handkerchief  over  his  eyes, 
and  as  often  he  tore  it  off  again,  and  once  more  he  vented  his  rage 
on  the  executioner,  who  had  maddened  him  by  wishing  to  cut  off 
his  hair  behind.  "Touch  me  not,"  he  cried,  "except  with  the 
sword.  If  you  lay  hands  on  me  while  I  am  alive,  if  I  am  driven 
into  a  fury,  I  will  strangle  half  the  folks  that  are  here,  and  compel 
the  rest  to  kill  me."  So  terrible  were  his  looks  and  his  tone,  that 
several  of  the  persons  present  were  on  the  point  of  taking  flight. 
It  was  believed  that  he  meditated  seizing  the  death-sword,  but  the 
executioner  had  prudently  desired  his  attendant  to  conceal  it  till  it 
was  wanted.  At  last,  after  long  delay,  the  marshal  requested 
Baranton,  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Bastile,  to  bandage  his  eyes 
and  tuck  up  his  hair;  and,  when  this  was  done,  he  laid  his  head 
upon  the  block.  "Be  quick!  be  quick!"  were  his  last  words, 
and  they  were  promptly  obeyed.  They  were  scarcely  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  speaker  when  the  sword  descended,  and  by  a  single 
blow  Biron  ceased  to  exist. 

The  remains  of  Biron  were  interred  in  the  church  of  St.  Paul. 
Not  only  was  his  funeral  followed  by  multitudes,  but  multitudes 
visited  the  church  afterwards,  for  the  purpose  of  sprinkling  his 
grave  with  holy  water.  "Never  was  there  a  tomb,"  says  de 
Thou,  "on  which  so  much  holy  water  was  poured ;  a  circumstance 
rather  disagreeable  to  the  court,  which  was  vexed  to  see  that  a 
step  which  all  ought  to  have  deemed  necessary  for  the  safety  of 
the  king  and  state,  was  so  wrongly  interpreted  as  to  become  a 
subject  of  public  dissatisfaction." 


132  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Almost  the  last  wish  of  Biron  was  for  vengeance  on  La  Fin ; 
the  wish  was  gratified.  After  a  lapse  of  four  years,  La  Fin  ven- 
tured to  visit  Paris.  In  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  in  the  centre 
of  the  capital,  he  was  attacked  by  twelve  or  fifteen  well-mounted 
men  who  unhorsed  him,  and  stretched  him  on  the  ground,  welter- 
ing in  his  blood.  Several  passengers  were  killed  or  wounded  by 
the  random  firing.  The  perpetrators  of  this  deed,  though  not 
unknown,  were  never  brought  to  justice.  La  Fin  himself  was 
undeserving  of  pity;  but  his  murderers,  even  had  he  been  the 
only  victim,  ought  to  have  been  shortened  by  the  head. 

Faithless  to  a  sovereign  who  had  lavished  kindness  and  honours 
upon  him,  borne  with  his  caprices  and  errors,  and  more  than 
once  saved  his  life  on  the  field  of  battle,  Biron  was  rightfully 
punished ;  but  the  severity  which,  on  very  slight  grounds  of  sus- 
picion, was  shown  to  Rene  de  Marc,  sieur  de  Monbarot,  seems  to 
impeach  the  justice  of  Henry.  When,  however,  we  recollect 
that  his  mind  was  painfully  agitated  by  the  plots  which  were 
thickening  round  him,  we  may  perhaps  be  inclined  to  pity  rather 
than  blame  the  monarch,  that,  in  one  instance,  its  natural  bias 
towards  lenity  was  turned  aside. 

In  the  bay  of  Douarnenez,  off  the  Breton  coast,  there  is  an  islet, 
called  Tristin,  or  Frimeau,  which  commands  the  entrance  to  the 
harbour  of  Douarnenez.  The  government  of  it  was  held  by  the 
Baron  de  Fontanelles,  who,  during  the  war  of  the  League,  had 
rendered  himself  notorious  by  his  activity  in  plundering.  Not 
being  any  longer  able  to  gratify  his  rapacity  in  this  manner,  he 
sought  for  other  resources,  and  hoped  he  had  found  them  in  be- 
coming an  accomplice  of  Biron,  and  in  opening  a  negotiation  with 
the  Spaniards,  to  deliver  up  to  them  the  island  and  the  neighbour- 
ing town.  This  would  have  put  Spain  into  possession  of  a  very 
annoying  post  in  Britanny.  Fortunately  his  treason  was  disco- 
vered, and  he  was  sentenced  to  be  broken  on  the  wheel.  Three 
other  persons,  two  of  whom  were  Bretons,  participated  in  his 
guilt,  and  the  latter  were  executed. 

Before  the  accomplices  of  Foritanelies  were  led  to  the  scaffold, 
they  were  put  to  the  torture,  and,  while  they  were  writhing  under 
that  iniquitous  infliction,  something  dropped  from  them  which  was 
construed  into  an  implication  of  Monbarot,  who  was  governor  of 
Rennes.  Monbarot  had  done  good  service  against  the  Duke  of 
Mercceur,  during  the  war  of  the  League,  and,  since  the  peace,  he 
had  made  strenuous  exertions  to  maintain  the  royal  authority  in 
Britanny.  All  this  was,  nevertheless,  insufficient  to  save  him 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  133 

from  being  suspected  of  treasonable  designs,  and  immured  in  the 
Bastile. 

Monbarot  languished  in  prison  for  three  years — and  to  a  soli- 
tary captive  years  are  ages.  He  would,  perhaps,  have  remained 
there  during  a  much  longer  period,  had  not  filial  love  been  a 
persevering  suitor  for  him.  His  only  son  repeatedly  solicited  the 
king  to  set  his  parent  free  ;  and,  failing  to  obtain  that  boon,  he  en- 
treated that  he  might  be  allowed  to  lighten  his  sorrows,  by  sharing 
his  captivity.  At  length,  Monbarot's  enemies  having  failed  to 
procure  any  proof  whatever  against  him,  he  was  liberated  by 
Henry.  But,  though  he  was  declared  to  be  innocent,  he  was 
punished  as  though  he  were  guilty.  Instead  of  being,  as  far  as 
was  possible,  compensated  for  three  years  of  suffering,  he  was 
deprived  of  the  government  of  Rennes,  which  was  given  to  Philip 
de  Bethune,  Sully's  younger  brother.  It  is  probable,  indeed,  that 
the  persecution  of  Monbarot  was  set  on  foot  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  wresting  from  him  his  coveted  office. 

Charles  of  Valois,  Count  of  Auvergne,  who  was  afterwards 
known  as  Duke  of  Angouieme,  was  a  son  of  Charles  the  Ninth, 
by  Maria  Touchet,  and  was  born  in  1573.  He  was  admitted  a 
Knight  of  Malta,  and  became  Grand  Prior  of  France ;  but  Catherine 
of  Medicis  having  bequeathed  to  him  the  counties  of  Auvergne 
and  Lauragais,  he  quitted  the  order  of  Malta,  and  married  a 
daughter  of  the  constable  Montmorenci.  Charles  was  one  of  the 
first  to  join  Henry  of  Navarre,  on  the  accession  of  that  prince,  and 
he  fought  valiantly  for  him  at  Arques,  Ivry,  and  Fontaine  Fran- 
^aise.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years,  however,  his  loyalty  evapo- 
rated, and  we  find  him  an  accomplice  of  Biron.  When  he  was 
arrested,  his  pleasantry  and  presence  of  mind  did  not  forsake  him. 
On  Praslin  demanding  his  sword,  he  laughingly  said,  "Here  it 
is ;  it  has  never  killed  anything  but  wild  boars.  If  you  had  given 
me  a  hint  of  this  business,  I  should  have  been  in  bed  and  asleep 
two  hours  ago."  He  preserved  the  same  gay  humour  while  he 
was  in  prison.  In  October  he  was  released,  after  having  disclosed 
the  whole  that  he  knew  of  the  conspiracy.  As,  however,  the 
king  had  procured  the  same  information  from  other  quarters, 
Auvergne  would  probably  have  been  severely  punished  but  for 
two  favourable  circumstances — he  was  the  half  brother  of  the 
king's  mistress,  the  Marchioness  of  Verneuil,  and  he  had  been 
particularly  recommended  to  him  by  Henry  the  Third,  when  that 
monarch  was  on  his  death-bed. 

A  very  short  time  elapsed  before  Auvergne  was  again  involved 
in  treasonable  projects.  His  confederates  were  the  Marchioness 


134  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  Verneuil,  her  father,  Francis  de  Balsac  d'Entragues,  and  an 
Englishman  named  Thomas  Morgan.  The  Duke  of  Bouillon,  and 
other  nobles,  were  also  ready  to  lend  their  aid.  The  marchioness, 
who,  in  consequence  of  the  promise  of  marriage  which  the  king 
had  given  to  her  during  the  insanity  of  his  passion,  affected  to 
consider  herself  as  his  wife,  was  irritated  by  the  birth  of  a  dauphin, 
which  seemed  to  shut  out  the  possibility  of  her  son  ever  possess- 
ing what  she  called  his  right.  D'Entragues  was  deeply  wounded 
in'his  feelings  by  the  stain  which  Henry's  licentious  love  for  his 
daughter  had  cast  upon  him.  Some  writers, — who  appear  to  sup- 
pose that  a  French  father  could  not  think  himself  dishonoured  by 
his  child  becoming  a  king's  concubine, — throw  doubts  on  the  sin- 
cerity of  d'Entragues'  indignation  ;  but  I  can  see  no  real  grounds 
for  their  so  doing.  There  is  an  air  of  sincerity  in  what  he  says 
upon  this  subject,  which  is  greatly  in  his  favour.  After  touching 
upon  the  ingratitude  with  which  his  faithful  services  had  been 
repaid,  he  adds,  "  Borne  down  by  years  and  maladies,  I  was  con- 
demned to  suffer  more  deadly  blows  from  blind  fortune.  My  daugh- 
ter, the  sole  consolation  of  my  old  age,  pleased  the  king,  and  this 
last  stroke  completed  my  misery.  Grief  aggravated  my  maladies, 
and  still  more  intense  mental  anguish  was  joined  to  the  pains 
which  my  body  endured.  I  found  myself  exposed  to  all  the  gibes 
of  the  courtiers ;  and  that  which  generally  constitutes  the  happi- 
ness of  a  father,  and  which  ought  to  have  formed  the  glory  and 
felicity  of  my  family,  was,  on  the  contrary,  the  cause  of  my  shame, 
of  the  dishonour  of  my  house,  and  of  the  insulting  scorn  with 
which  I  was  overwhelmed."  As  often  as  he  implored  for  leave 
to  withdraw  from  court  he  was  refused,  and  at  length  he  was  for- 
bidden to  see  his  daughter.  Not  content  with  inflicting  these 
wrongs  upon  him,  Henry  was  striving  to  seduce  his  second 
daughter  also.  Assuredly  if  such  injuries  are  not  sufficient  to 
rouse  the  wrath  of  a  father,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  what  would 
be.  That  d'Entragues  keenly  felt  them  is  certain  ;  for  he  more 
than  once  endeavoured  to  intercept  and  kill  the  king  while  he  was 
on  his  way  to  the  marchioness  and  to  her  sister,  and  Henry  is  said 
to  have  narrowly  escaped.  The  design  to  assassinate  is  indefen- 
sible; but  it  at  least  proves  that  the  father  was  in  earnest.  At  a 
subsequent  period,  Henry  said  to  d'Entragues,  "  Is  it  true,  as  is 
reported,  that  you  meant  to  kill  me  ?"  "  Yes,  Sire,"  replied  the 
undaunted  noble,  "  and  the  idea  will  never  be  out  of  my  mind 
while  your  majesty  persists  to  blot  my  honour  in  the  person  of  my 
daughter." 

The  particulars  of  the  conspiracy  are  very  imperfectly  known. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  135 

It  is  said  the  principal  stipulations  of  the  treaty  with  Spain  were, 
that  Philip  should  recognize  as  dauphin  the  natural  son  of  Henry 
by  the  Marchioness  of  Yerneuil,  on  her  putting  him  into  his  hands; 
that,  in  the  first  instance,  the  mother  and  child  should  seek  refuge 
at  Sedan,  under  the  protection  of  the  Duke  of  Bouillon,  and  that 
subsequently  five  Portuguese  fortresses  should  be  ceded  to  them 
as  places  of  security;  and  that  France  should  be  invaded  on  the 
frontiers  of  Champagne,  Burgundy,  and  Provence,  by  the  Marquis 
of  Spinola,  the  Count  of  Fuentes,  and  the  Duke  of  Savoy. 

To  the  prosecution  of  Auvergne  there  were  two  obstacles  which 
arose  out  of  the  conduct  of  Henry.  When  the  count  was  released 
from  the  Bastile,  he  offered  to  continue  his  correspondence  with 
the  Spanish  court,  for  the  purpose  of  betraying  its  secrets  to  the 
king;  and  a  regular  authority  for  so  doing  was  unwisely  granted 
to  him.  It  was  base  in  Auvergne  to  make  such  a  proposal,  and 
scarcely  less  so  in  Henry  to  adopt  it.  By  another  act,  the  monarch 
gave  him  a  fresh  pretext  for  holding  intercourse  with  a  power 
which  was  thoroughly  hostile  at  heart.  Henry  being  attacked  by 
a  fit  of  illness,  the  marchioness,  who  had  insulted  Mary  of  Medicis 
beyond  endurance,  affected  to  feel,  or  perhaps  felt,  such  extreme 
dread  of  what  would  befall  her  and  her  offspring  in  case  of  his 
death,  that  the  king  gave  her  half  brother  a  written  permission  to 
negotiate  an  asylum  for  her  in  a  foreign  country.  Cambray  was 
the  place  which  she  and  Auvergne  selected  as  the  city  of  refuge  ; 
and  this  selection  afforded  them,  while  the  negotiation  was  pro- 
ceeding, an  opportunity  to  carry  on  intrigues  with  the  emissaries 
of  Spain. 

Apprehending,  probably,  that  his  treasonable  duplicity  would 
soon  be  detected,  Auvergne,  by  challenging  the  Count  of  Soissons, 
artfully  contrived  to  be  banished  from  court.  Soissons  complained, 
and  Henry,  to  satisfy  him,  exiled  the  challenger  to  the  province 
whence  he  derived  his  title.  This  was  what  Charles  of  Valois 
had  aimed  at ;  for,  in  that  province,  his  possessions,  his  popu- 
larity, and  the  rugged  nature  of  the  country,  would  contribute  to 
secure  him  from  danger.  While  he  was  there,  a  letter  written  by 
him,  to  one  of  his  friends  at  Paris,  was  intercepted,  and,  though 
its  language  was  obscure,  it  gave  the  king  reason  to  believe  that, 
under  pretence  of  betraying  Spain,  the  count  was  in  reality 
plotting  with  it.  Henry  immediately  summoned  him  to  return  to 
court.  Auvergne  was,  however,  aware  of  the  reason  and  the 
danger.  "  It  is  only  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  my  head  to  the 
scaffold,"  said  he,  "that  I  am  called  to  Paris."  The  mere  idea  of 
being  re-immured  in  "  that  great  heap  of  stones,"  as  he  called  the 


136  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Bastile,  made  him  shudder.  Neither  a  safe-conduct,  nor  a  formal 
pardon,  which  were  offered  to  him,  nor  the  assurances  of  several 
persons,  whom  the  king  sent  to  him,  could  remove  his  suspicions. 
To  avoid  being  taken  by  surprise,  he  lived  in  the  woods  and  the 
most  solitary  spots,  and  kept  dogs  and  sentinels  continually  on  the 
watch.  Yet  he  was  at  last  circumvented.  His  regiment  of  ca- 
valry was  purposely  ordered  to  pass  near  his  abode,  and  he  could 
not  deny  himself  the  gratification  of  inspecting  it.  In  this  plea- 
sure he  thought  he  might  safely  indulge,  as  he  was  resolved  that 
he  would  neither  dismount  nor  be  surrounded,  and  was  on  the 
back  of  a  fleet  horse,  that  could  gallop  ten  leagues  without  stop- 
ping. He  was,  nevertheless,  adroitly  seized,  and  carried  off  to 
the  Bastile,  where  he  was  placed  in  the  chamber  that  Biron  had 
inhabited.  On  his  way  thither  he  had  preserved  his  serenity, 
but,  when  he  entered  the  chamber,  the  remembrance  of  his  friend 
drew  from  him  a  few  tears.  He  soon,  however,  recovered  his 
equanimity,  and  jocosely  told  the  governor,  "  there  was  no  inn  at 
Paris  so  bad  that  he  would  not  rather  go  to  bed  in  it  than  in  this 
building."  As  soon  as  Auvergne  was  secured,  d'Entragues  was 
arrested  and  lodged  in  the  Conciergerie,  and  the  Marchioness  of 
Verneuil  was  placed  under  a  guard  in  her  own  house. 

The  parliament  was  now  directed  to  take  cognizance  of  the 
plot.  Henry,  however,  whose  main  object  in  all  this  was  to  ren- 
der his  haughty  mistress  more  submissive,  sent  one  of  his  con- 
fidential servants  to  make  her  an  offer  of  pardon  on  certain  con- 
ditions. He  was  repulsed,  as  he  richly  deserved  to  be.  The 
marchioness  disdainfully  replied,  that,  as  she  had  never  committed 
a  crime  against  the  king,  there  was  no  room  for  a  pardon.  The  trial 
accordingly  proceeded.  The  conspirators  defended  themselves 
dextrously.  Biron  had  been  ruined  partly  by  admitting,  at  the 
outset,  the  fair  character  and  veracity  of  intended  witnesses.  The 
marchioness  and  the  count  at  least  avoided  that  rock,  by  manifest- 
ing an  apparently  bitter  hostility  to  each  other.  As  to  d'En- 
tragues, he  censured  them  both ;  but  his  vindication  principally 
consisted  of  a  severe  exposure  and  impeachment  of  Henry's  con- 
duct, with  respect  to  himself,  the  marchioness,  and  her  sister. 

Though  in  a  legal  point  of  view,  whatever  they  might  be  in  a 
moral,  the  proofs  against  the  prisoners  were  by  no  means  clear, 
the  judges,  on  the  1st  of  February,  1605,  found  Auvergne,  d'En- 
tragues, and  Morgan,  guilty  of  high  treason,  and  condemned  them 
to  lose  their  heads.  The  marchioness  was  sentenced  to  be  con- 
fined in  a  monastery,  while  further  inquiries  were  being  made 
into  her  past  proceedings.  She  was,  however,  soon  after  allowed 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  137 


to  reside  in  her  own  house  at  Verneuil ;  and  no  long  time  elapsed 
before  the  king  ordered  that  all  inquiry  into  her  acts  should  be 
discontinued.  The  punishment  of  the  remaining  offenders  was 
next  commuted.  D'j^ntragues  was  exiled  to  his  house  at  Male- 
sherbes,  Morgan  was  sent  out  of  the  kingdom,  and  Auvergne  was 
doomed  to  remain  in  "that  great  heap  of  stones,"  which  he  so 
much  abhorred. 

Thus  ended  a  farce  which  was  eminently  disgraceful  to  Henry, 
and  for  which  he  was  justly  censured.  "It  excited  indignation," 
says  de  Thou,  "to  see  the  ministry  of  the  most  respectable  tri- 
bunal in  the  realm  profaned  by  a  court  intrigue.  The  king,  it 
was  said,  had  brought  the  marchioness  to  trial,  not  for  the  purpose 
of  punishing  her,  nor  to  give  an  example  which  was  equally  ne- 
cessary and  full  of  equity,  but  that  her  father  and  brother,  who 
had  tried  to  withdraw  her  from  the  court,  might  be  foremost  in 
exhorting  her  to  renew  her  connection  with  a  prince  who  madly 
loved  her."  To  crown  the  whole,  the  monarch,  who,  to  secure 
more  effectually  a  refractory  mistress,  had  thus  made  a  laughing- 
stock of  the  laws  and  the  magistracy,  speedily  deserted  that  mis- 
tress, and  transferred  his  fickle  affections  to  Jacqueline  de  Beuil, 
whom  he  created  Countess  of  Moret. 

The  death  of  Henry  did  not  open  the  prison  doors  of  the  Count 
of  Auvergne.  He, spent  nearly  twelve  years  in  the  Bastile. 
Happily  for  him,  he  had  been  well  educated,  and  though,  while 
he  was  immersed  in  the  debaucheries  of  an  immoral  court,  he  had 
lost  sight  of  literature,  his  taste  for  it  was  not  destroyed.  He 
was,  therefore,  enabled  to  solace  by  study  his  long  captivity ;  and 
we  may  believe,  that,  when  he  once  more  emerged  from  his 
durance,  reflection  and  added  years  had  made  him  a  wiser  and 
better  man.  He  had  need  of  consolation  while  he  was  incarce- 
rated ;  for,  the  year  after  he  was  committed  to  the  Bastile,  he 
received  another  heavy  blow.  Queen  Margaret  instituted  a  suit, 
to  recover  from  him  the  vast  property  which  he  derived  from  her 
mother,  and  the  tribunal  decided  against  him. 

At  last,  in  1616,  he  was  set  free  by  Mary  of  Medicis,  that  he 
might  assist  in  forming  a  counterpoise  to  the  Condean  faction ; 
and,  in  1619,  he  was  created  Duke  of  Angouleme.  He  subse- 
quently served  the  state  with  honour,  on  various  occasions,  both 
as  ambassador  and  general.  His  death  took  place  in  1650. 

Scarcely  were  the  proceedings  against  Auvergne  and  his  ac- 
complices brought  to  a  close  before  another  conspiracy  was  dis- 
covered ;  it  was  the  last  which  was  formed,  or  rather,  perhaps, 
which  was  made  public,  during  the  reign  of  Henry.  The  author 


138  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  this  plot  was  Louis  d'Alagon,  Sieur  de  Merargues,  a  Provencal 
noble,  nearly  allied  to  some  great  families.  We  have  seen  that 
the  Spaniards  were  desirous  to  obtain  an  establishment  on  the 
Breton  coast,  which  might  be  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  France. 
They  now  sought  to  gain  a  much  more  dangerous  footing  on  the 
shore  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  important  city  of  Marseilles 
was  the  object  which  they  coveted,  and  Merargues  was  the  person 
on  whom  they  reckoned  to  put  it  into  their  possession. 

Almost  the  first  step  which  Merargues  took,  after  becoming  a 
traitor,  showed  how  unfit  he  was  to  act  the  part  which  he  had 
chosen ;  he  had  all  the  will  in  the  world  to  be  a  dangerous  con- 
spirator, and  wanted  only  the  talent.  Some  years  before  he  had 
proposed  to  the  king  to  keep  two  galleys  ready  for  service,  in 
order  to  secure  the  port  of  Marseilles ;  the  plan  was  adopted,  and 
as  a  recompense  he  received  the  command  of  the  vessels.  In 
maturing  this  scheme,  he  derived  much  assistance  from  a  galley- 
slave,  who  was  a  man  of  ability.  To  this  man,  whom  he  imag- 
ined to  be  entirely  devoted  to  him,  and  capable  of  daring  deeds, 
Merargues  communicated  his  purpose  of  betraying  Marseilles  to 
the  Spanish  monarch.  %  By  means  of  the  two  galleys  he  consi- 
dered himself  to  be  master  of  the  port ;  and  he  had  no  doubt  of 
being  elected  to  the  office  of  Viguier,  or  Royal  Provost,  for  the 
following  year,  which  would  give  him  full  authority  over  the  city 
and  the  forts. 

In  order  to  fathom  to  the  bottom  the  project  of  Merargues,  the  wily 
galley-slave  affected  to  lend  a  willing  ear  to  the  projector.  He,  how- 
ever, deemed  it  more  prudent  to  trust  to  the  gratitude  of  his  own 
sovereign  for  a  reward,  than  to  that  of  Philip  of  Spain.  As  soon  as 
he  had  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  particulars,  he  wrote 
to  the  Duke  of  Guise,  offering  to  give  information  of  the  utmost 
importance,  on  condition  of  recovering  his  liberty.  His  offer  was 
made  known  to  the  king  by  the  duke,  and  was  accepted.  Guise 
was  at  the  same  time  directed  to  keep  the  affair  a  profound  secret, 
till  decisive  proof  could  be  obtained  against  the  criminal,  and  to 
take  the  necessary  precautions  for  the  safety  of  the  city. 

Merargues  himself  was  not  slow  in  furnishing  the  evidence 
which  was  wanted.  He  had  already  had  various  conferences 
with  Zuniga,  the  Spanish  ambassador,  an  able  and  intriguing 
diplomatist,  but  his  correspondence  on  the  subject  was  principally 
carried  on  through  Bruneau,  the  ambassador's  secretary.  Un- 
conscious that  his  scheme  was  known  to  the  French  government, 
he  now  visited  Paris,  on  a  mission  to  the  court,  from  the  states  of 
Provence ;  a  mission  which  he  no  doubt  readily  undertook,  that 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  making  arrangements  with 
his  foreign  confederates.  By  order  of  the  king  he  was  closely 
watched,  and  it  was  soon  discovered  that  he  had  secret  interviews 
Avith  Zuniga  and  Bruneau.  The  latter  was  tracked  to  the  abode 
of  Merargues,  and  both  of  them  were  arrested.  On  the  secretary, 
who  tried  in  vain  to  draw  his  sword,  was  found  a  paper,  which 
bore  witness  to  the  criminality  of  his  purpose.  Merargues,  on 
being  seized,  exclaimed,  "I  am  a  dead  man!  but  if  the  king  will 
spare  my  life,  I  will  disclose  great  things  to  him !"  He  was  con- 
veyed to  the  Bastile,  and  Bruneau  to  the  Chatelet. 

No  sooner  did  Zuniga  learn  the  detention  of  his  secretary  than 
he  demanded  an  audience  of  the  king.  It  must  excite  a  smile, 
to  hear  that  he  complained  bitterly  of  heavy  wrong,  and  assumed 
the  lofty  tone  of  offended  dignity.  In  the  face  of  the  clearest 
evidence,  he  denied  all  sinister  designs ;  and  talked  largely  of  the 
privilege  of  ambassadors  being  violated,  and  the  law  of  nations 
set  at  nought — as  if  any  privileges  or  law  could  exist  authorizing 
an  envoy  to  conspire  in  the  very  court  of  the  monarch  to  whom 
he  is  deputed.  Nor  did  he  forget  to  recriminate  upon  the  minis- 
ters of  Henry,  as  being  fornentors  of  Revolution  in  the  Spanish 
dominions,  nor  to  throw  out  threats  of  hostility,  in  case  redress 
were  denied.  Angered  by  the  haughty  language  of  Zuniga, 
Henry  retorted  with  at  least  equal  acrimony,  and  concluded  by  a 
peremptory  refusal  to  release  Bruneau,  till  the  question  of  his 
guilt  or  innocence  had  been  thoroughly  investigated.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  however,  Bruneau  was  sent  back  to  his 
master;  but  not  before  he  had  answered  interrogatories,  and  been 
confronted  with  Merargues. 

The  fate  of  Merargues  could  not  be  doubtful.  He  was  sen- 
tenced to  be  beheaded,  and  then  quartered.  As  the  culprit  was 
related  to  the  families  of  the  Duke  of  Montpensier  and  the  Cardinal 
de  Joyeuse,  the  king  sent  to  those  personages,  to  offer  the  com- 
mutation of  the  punishment  into  perpetual  imprisonment.  They, 
however,  with  a  praiseworthy  spirit,  replied  that,  though  they 
were  grateful  for  his  kindness,  they  must  decline  to  accept  it;  of 
all  such  villains  they  would,  they  said,  be  glad  to  see  France 
cleared,  and,  although  the  criminal  was  their  relative,  they  would 
do  justice  on  him  with  their  own  hands,  if  there  were  no  execu- 
tioner to  perform  that  duty.  Merargues  was  in  consequence  exe- 
cuted, at  the  Greve,  and  his  head  was  sent  to  Marseilles,  and 
exposed  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the  city  gates. 

On  the  same  day  that  Merargues  was  led  to  the  scaffold,  the 
life  of  Henry  was  endangered  by  the  violence  of  one  John  de 


140  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Lisle,  a  madman.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months  another  accident 
occurred;  he  narrowly  escaped  drowning,  while  crossing  the  ferry 
of  Neuilly  in  his  carriage.  At  the  expiration  of  five  years,  treason 
accomplished  its  purpose,  and  the  existence  of  this  justly  celebrated 
monarch  was  cut  short  by  the  knife  of  Ravaillac. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Reign  of  Louis  XIII. — The  treasure  of  Henry  IV.  dissipated. — Prevalent  belief 
in  magic. — Cesar  and  Ruggieri. — Henry,  Prince  of  Conde. — The  Marchioness 
d'Ancre. — Marshal  Ornano. — Prevalence  of  duelling. — The  Count  de  Boute- 
ville. — The  day  of  the  Dupes. — Vautier,  the  physician  of  Mary  of  Medicis. — 
The  Marshal  de  Bassompierre. — The  Chevalier  de  Jars. — Infamy  of  Laffemas. 
— Three  citizens  of  Paris  sent  to  the  Bastile. — Despotic  language  of  Louis 
XIII. — The  Count  de  Cramail. — The  Marquis  of  Vitry. — Peter  de  la  Porte. — 
Noel  Pigard  Dubois,  an  alchemical  impostor. — The  Count  de  Grance  and  the 
Marquis  de  Praslin. — The  Prince  Palatine.— Count  Philip  d'Aglie.— Charles 
de  Beys. — Letter  from  an  unknown  prisoner  to  Richelieu. 

THE  treasure  deposited  in  the  Bastile,  by  Henry  IV.,  did  not 
remain  long  undissipated  after  his  death.  It  began  to  melt  away, 
like  snow  in  the  sun,  as  soon  as  the  regency  of  Mary  of  Medicis 
was  commenced.  Swarms  of  her  favourites  and  dependents 
clamoured  to  obtain  the  reward  of  their  sycophancy.  Like  the 
horse-leech's  two  daughters,  they  were  perpetually  crying, "  Give ! 
Give!"  and,  had  such  personages  existed  in  the  days  of  Solomon, 
he  might  have  added  a  fifth  thing  to  the  four  which  he  describes 
as  never  saying  "It  is  enough."  Mos-t  prominent  among  the 
group  were  Concini  and  his  wife;  and  as  they  were  exceedingly 
unpopular,  they  endeavoured  to  silence  the  cry  against  them,  by 
stopping,  at  the  public  expense,  the  mouths  of  their  most  formida- 
ble censors.  But  it  was  not  only  her  friends,  as  they  called  them- 
selves, that  Mary  of  Medicis  had  to  satisfy;  her  enemies,  and  she 
had  many,  were  to  be  bought  off,  and  they  sold  their  forbearance 
dearly.  Fraud  and  shameless  rapacity  became  universal.  "  Gov- 
ernors," says  Anquetil,  "called  for  guards  which  they  never  en- 
listed, for  augmentations  of  their  garrisons,  that  they  might  gain 
something  out  of  the  pay,  and  fortifications,  which  often  were 
useless.  They  themselves  made  the  bargains,  and,  at  the  king's 
cost,  managed  matters  with  the  contractors.  Reversions  were 
granted  down  to  the  third  generation.  Those  who  by  this  means 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  141 

were  excluded,  required  drafts  on  the  royal  treasury.  Nothing- 
was  more  common  than  the  doubling- and  trebling  of  salaries,  from 
the  highest  office  to  the  lowest.  Some  obtained  doweries  for  their 
daughters,  others  the  payment  of  their  debts :  so  that  it  was  a 
general  pillage."  To  all  this  must  be  added,  the  loss  sustained, 
and  the  injury  done  to  every  branch  of  industry,  by  the  creation 
or  revival  of  obnoxious  tolls,  privileges,  and  monopolies. 

Thus  the  money  accumulated  by  Henry  was  speedily  squan- 
dered. After  all,  it  was,  perhaps,  more  innocently  spent  in  this 
manner,  than  it  would  have  been  in  carrying  on  the  wide-spreading 
war  which  he  had  planned,  to  realize  his  chimerical  projects. 
Some  drops  of  the  golden  shower  probably  descended  among  the 
multitude ;  and  myriads  were  not  led  forth  to  spill  their  blood  in 
foreign  lands.  The  real  mischief  in  this  case  was,  that,  when  the 
hoard  was  gone,  the  spirit  of  spending  remained :  and  to  satisfy 
that  spirit  new  taxes  and  exactions  were  pitilessly  imposed  on  a 
people  whose  burthens  were  already  oppressive. 

Having  wholly  lost  his  influence,  Sully  resigned  many  of  his 
offices,  and  returned  into  private  life.  Among  the  places  which 
he  relinquished  were  the  superintendence  of  the  finances,  and  the 
government  of  the  Bastile.  He,  however,  did  not  make  the  sacri- 
fice without  taking  especial  care  to  be  well  remunerated  for  it. 
A  million  of  livres,  and  a  yearly  pension  of  forty-eight  thousand 
livres,  was  his  price.  It  is  quite  clear  that  the  virtuous  Sully  did 
not  think,  like  Pope,  that  "  virtue  alone  is  happiness  below." 

For  the  first  four  or  five  years  of  the  regency  of  Mary  of  Medi- 
cis,  the  Bastile  seems  to  have  contained  no  prisoner  of  note.  At 
the  end  of  that  time  it  received  an  individual,  who,  though  he  had 
no  rank  to  boast  of,  professed  to  be  in  the  service  of  a  potent  master. 
The  belief  in  magic  was  almost  general  at  that  period.  We  have 
seen  that  Biron  attributed  his  crimes  to  the  influence  of  magic 
upon  him.  All  the  world  was  running  mad  after  charms,  spells, 
and  philtres;  the  boldest  of  the  throng  had  a  violent  curiosity  to 
see  the  devil.  Among  those  who  preyed  upon  the  credulity  of  the 
crowd,  history  has  preserved  the  names  of  two — one  was  called 
Cesar,  the  other  was  Ruggieri,a  Florentine.  It  is  to  the  extraor- 
dinary mode  in  which  they  are  asserted  to  have  quitted  the  world, 
that  we  are  indebted  for  our  knowledge  of  them. 

Cesar  is  gravely  stated  to  have  had  the  power  of  calling  down 
hail  and  thunder  at  his  pleasure.  He  had  a  familiar  spirit,  and  a 
dog,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  sort  of  minor  fiend,  acting  as  mes- 
senger, to  carry  his  letters,  and  bring  back  answers.  Cesar  was 
a  manufacturer  of  love  potions  to  make  young  girls  enamoured  of 


142  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

young  men;  and,  on  occasion,  could  help  a  cowardly  enemy  to 
destroy  without  risk  the  man  whom  he  hated.  It  was  charged 
against  him,  that  he  had  formed  a  charmed  image  for  the  purpose 
of  making  a  gentleman  waste  away.  This  was  a  very  common 
practice  when  sorcery  and  witchcraft  were  in  vogue.  But  it  seems 
prohable  that  the  crime  which  brought  him  to  the  Bastile  was  an 
indiscretion  which  he  committed  with  respect  to  one  of  the  gentle 
sex.  He  was  accustomed  to  attend  the  witches'  sabbath ;  and  he 
boasted  that,  at  one  of  those  unholy  meetings,  a  great  lady  of  the 
court  had  granted  him  the  last  favour  which  a  female  can  bestow. 
Such  a  vaunt  was  well  calculated  to  bring  him  into  durance.  It 
did  that,  and  more.  On  the  eleventh  of  March,  1615,  all  Paris 
was  astonished,  by  learning  that,  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  the  devil 
had  come,  with  a  tremendous  din,  and  strangled  Cesar  in  his  bed. 
Four  days  afterwards  his  Satanic  majesty,  who  appears  to  have 
wanted  the  services  of  two  magicians  at  once,  snatched  away,  in 
the  same  manner,  the  soul  of  the  Florentine  Ruggieri,  who  was 
then  residing  in  the  house  of  a  French  marshal.  It  is  not  difficult 
to  account  for  these  supposed  supernatural  events. 

A  curious  description  of  the  tricks  which  Cesar  played  upon 
his  dupes  is  given  by  a  cotemporary  author,  who  speaks  in  the 
character  of  the  magician.  The  representation  is  probably  cor- 
rect. "You  would  hardly  believe,"  says  he,  "how  many  young 
courtiers  and  young  Parisians  there  are,  who  teaze  me  to  show 
them  the  devil.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  I  hit  upon  one  of  the 
drollest  inventions  in  the  world  to  get  money.  About  a  quarter 
of  a  league  from  this  city,  I  found  a  very  deep  quarry,  which  has 
long  ditches  on  the  right  and  left  hand.  When  anybody  wants 
to  see  the  devil,  I  take  him  into  that;  but  before  he  enters,  he 
must  pay  me  forty  or  fifty  pistoles  at  least;  swear  never  to  say  a 
word  of  the  matter;  and  promise  not  to  be  afraid,  or  call  on  the 
gods  or  demigods,  or  pronounce  any  holy  words. 

"All  this  being  done,  I  enter  the  cavern  first;  then, before  going 
further,  I  make  circles,  and  involutions,  and  fulminations,  and 
mutter  some  speech  composed  of  barbarous  words,  which  I  have 
no  sooner  uttered  than  my  curious  fool  and  I  hear  the  rattling  of 
heavy  chains,  and  the  growling  of  large  mastiffs.  Then  I  ask 
him  if  he  is  afraid  ;  if  he  says  yes  (and  there  are  many  who  dare 
not  proceed),  I  lead  him  out  again,  and,  having  thus  cured  him  of 
his  impertinent  curiosity,  I  pocket  his  money. 

"If  he  is  not  afraid,  I  go  forward,  mumbling  out  some  terrific 
words.  When  I  have  reached  a  particular  spot,  I  redouble  my 
incantations,  and  utter  loud  cries,  as  if  I  had  gone  frantically  mad. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  143 

Immediately  six  men,  whom  I  keep  hidden  in  the  cavern,  throw 
out  flashes  of  flame,  to  the  right  and  left  of  us,  from  burning  rosin. 
Seen  through  these  flames  I  point  out  to  my  inquisitive  companion  a 
monstrous  goat  loaded  with  great  heavy  chains  of  iron,  painted  with 
vermilion,  to  look  as  though  they  were  red  hot.  On  each  side, 
there  are  two  enormous  mastiffs,  with  their  heads  fastened  into  long 
wooden  cases,  which  are  wide  at  one  end,  and  very  narrow  at 
the  other.  While  the  men  keep  goading  them  they  howl  with 
all  their  might,  and  this  howling  echoes  in  such  a  manner,  through 
the  instruments  on  their  heads,  that  the  cavern  is  filled  with  sounds 
so  terrific  that,  though  I  know  the  cause  of  the  hurly-burly,  even 
my  own  hair  stands  on  end.  The  goat,  whom  I  have  taught  his 
lesson,  plays  his  part  so  well,  rattling  his  chains,  and  brandishing 
his  horns,  that  there  is  nobody  but  what  would  believe  him  to  be 
the  devil  in  earnest.  My  six  men,  whom  I  have  also  thoroughly 
trained,  are  likewise  loaded  with  red  chains,  and  dressed  like 
furies.  There  is  no  light  in  the  cavern  but  what  they  now  and 
then  make  with  powdered  rosin. 

"  Two  of  them,  after  having  played  the  devil  to  perfection,  now 
corne  to  torment  my  poor  curious  gull,  with  long  bags  of  cloth  full 
of  sand ;  with  these  they  so  belabour  him  all.  over  his  body,  that 
I  am  at  last  obliged  to  drag  him  out  of  the  cavern  half  dead. 
Then,  when  he  has  come  to  himself  a  little,  1  tell  him  that  it  is  a 
most  perilous  thing  to  wish  to  see  the  devil,  and  I  beg  that  he 
will  never  indulge  it  in  future ;  and  I  assure  you  that  no  one  ever 
does  after  having  been  so  double  damnably  beaten." 

The  year  after  the  foul  fiend  had  fetched  away  Cesar  and 
Ruggieri,  the  Bastile  was  tenanted  by  an  occupant  of  high  rank 
— Henry,  Prince  of  Conde,  the  second  who  bore  that  Christian 
name.  Conde  was  born  in  1588,  and  till  the  birth  of  a  dauphin, 
was  presumptive  heir  to  the  throne  of  France.  The  prince  was 
well  educated,  witty  and  pleasant  in  conversation,  spoke  several  lan- 
guages, and  was  better  acquainted  with  literature  and  the  sciences 
than  most  cotemporary  men  of  high  birth  ;  but  his  person  was  not 
attractive.  It  was  probably  the  latter  circumstance  which  induced 
Henry  the  Fourth  to  unite  him  to  Henrietta  de  Montmorenci,  the 
loveliest  and  richest  female  of  that  time.  Her  inclinations  leaned 
towards  the  handsome,  gallant,  and  accomplished  Bassompierre ; 
but  Henry,  who  was  smitten  with  an  extravagant  passion  for  her, 
seems  to  have  thought  that  he  could  more  easily  seduce  her  if  she 
were  the  wife  of  Conde.  He  was  mistaken.  The  prince,  on 
whose  "liking  the  chase  a  hundred  thousand  times  better  than  he 
liked  women,"  Henry  had  rather  erroneously  calculated,  was  not 


144  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


disposed  to  be  dishonoured,  even  by  a  king  who  was  his  uncle. 
Henry,  previous  to  the  marriage,  had,  indeed,  pledged  his  word 
that  on  his  account,  the  prince  need  have  no  fears ;  but  Henry 
was  not  a  man  to  be  trusted  in  such  cases.  The  nuptial  knot 
was  scarcely  tied  before  the  conduct  of  the  monarch  became  such 
as  to  awake,  and  justify,  all  the  jealous  fears  of  the  husband ;  who 
was  further  aggrieved  by  being  compelled  to  endure  the  contempt 
and  insolence  of  Sully.  To  avoid  the  danger  which  hung  over 
him,  his  sole  resource  was  to  fly  the  country  with  his  wife  ;  and 
he  accordingly  contrived  to  make  his  escape,  and  to  obtain  an 
asylum  in  the  court  of  the  Archduke  Albert,  at  Brussels. 

When  Henry  found  that  his  intended  prey  was  beyond  his 
reach,  his  behaviour  resembled  rather  that  of  a  madman  than  of  a 
sage  monarch,  at  the  mature  age  of  fifty-seven.  He  ran  about 
asking  ad  vice  of  his  courtiers,  the  ministers  were  summoned,  coun- 
cils were  held,  parties  of  troops  were  dispatched  to  seize  the 
fugitives,  and  war  was  threatened  against  Spain,  if  she  refused 
to  give  them  up.  When  Sully  was  told  of  what  had  happened, 
he  replied  in  a  surly  tone,  "I  am  not  astonished  at  it,  sire;  I 
foresaw  it  clearly  and  warned  you  of  it ;  and  had  you  taken  my 
advice  a  fortnight  ago,  when  he  was  going  to  Moret,  you  would 
have  put  him  in  to  the  Bastile,  where  you  would  find  him  now,  and 
where  I  should  have  kept  a  good  watch  over  him  for  you."  Such 
was  the  morality  of  the  austere  Sully !  This  "  well-seeming  An- 
gelo,"  who  has  been  praised,  at  least  as  much  as  he  deserves, 
could  be  indignant  at  the  idea  of  the  monarch  marrying  Henrietta 
d'Entragues,  his  mistress ;  but  he  could  see  no  dishonour  in  that 
monarch  breaking  his  plighted  word,  as  well  as  all  moral  obliga- 
tions, by  seducing  the  wife  of  his  nephew;  nor  in  he  himself 
volunteering  his  assistance  to  forward  an  adulterous  intercourse, 
by  prompting  the  seizure  of  the  injured  husband,  and  becoming 
his  gaoler! 

It  was  not  without  reason  that  the  prince  dreaded  to  trust  his 
wife  within  the  corrupted  atmosphere  of  the  French  court.  Had 
she  remained  there,  it  appears  certain  that  she  must  have  fallen. 
As  it  was,  her  fidelity  was,  for  a  moment,  on  the  point  of  being 
shaken.  Henrietta  was  little  more  than  sixteen,  and  the  glory  of 
the  sovereign,  his  boundless  generosity  to  her,  and  his  idolatrous 
fondness,  dazzled  her  imagination  so  far,  that,  while  she  was  at 
Brussels,  a  correspondence  was  actually  carried  on  between  them. 
An  attempt  was  made  by  Henry's  emissaries  to  carry  her  ofF,  but 
it  failed.  When  d'Estrees,  Marquis  of  Coeuvres,  who  conducted 
this  attempt,  was  reproached  for  his  baseness  by  Conde,  his  defence 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  145 

was,  that  he  had  acted  upon  orders  from  the  king  his  master,  and 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  execute  them,  whether  they  were  just  or 
unjust.  Henrietta  repaired  her  momentary  error  by  her  subse- 
quent conduct. 

Not  believing  himself  to  be  safe,  Conde  removed  to  Milan, 
where  he  published  a  manifesto  to  justify  his  having  quitted 
France.  From  policy  he  passed  over  in  silence  the  main  cause 
of  his  flight;  but  he  indemnified  himself  by  pouring  forth  all  the 
bitterness  of  his  resentment  on  Sully,  whom  he  painted  in  the 
darkest  colours.  Some  overtures  were  made,  to  lure  the  prince 
back  to  France,  but  they  were  ineffectual.  But,  while  Henry 
was  preparing  to  carry  war  into  the  territory  of  his  neighbours, 
he  fell  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  and  the  way  was  thus  opened 
for  the  return  of  the  prince. 

Conde  aspired  to  the  regency,  but  his  ambitious  hopes  were 
disappointed.  Chagrined  at  the  failure  of  some  of  his  subsequent 
schemes,  and  the  refusal  of  favours  which  he  sought,  the  prince, 
with  many  of  the  nobles,  took  up  arms  against  the  court.  For 
this,  he  and  his  adherents  were  declared  guilty  of  treason.  A 
peace  was,  nevertheless,  patched  up  between  the  parties,  and  he 
returned  to  Paris  in  a  sort  of  triumph. 

Not  more  than  a  year  elapsed  before  the  obvious  intention  of 
Conde,  to  monopolize  all  the  power  of  the  state,  compelled  Mary 
of  Medicis  to  venture  upon  decisive  measures  against  him.  Sully 
was  active  in  prompting  her  to  this  step.  The  strength  of  the 
prince's  party  rendered  the  attempt  hazardous ;  but  the  business 
was  kept  so  secret,  and  was  so  ably  managed,  that  he  was  arrested 
in  the  Louvre,  and  conveyed  to  the  Bastile  without  opposition. 
Here,  and  at  Vincennes,  he  remained  for  three  years,  during  part 
of  which  time  he  was  harshly  treated.  It  was  not  without  much 
difficulty,  and  till  he  had  been  long  confined,  that  his  wife,  who 
had  become  sincerely  attached  to  hirn,  was  allowed  to  share  his 
prison.  His  liberation  was  brought  about  by  the  fall  of  Concini, 
and  he  was  reinstated  in  his  honours.  Thenceforth,  he  served 
Louis  the  Thirteenth  faithfully  in  the  cabinet  and  the  field.  He 
died  in  1646.  Voltaire  truly  says,  with  respect  to  him,  that  his 
being  the  father  of  the  great  Conde  was  his  greatest  glory! 

The  downfall  of  Concini,  Marshal  d'Ancre,  which  opened  the 
gates  of  the  Bastile  to  let  out  Conde,  opened  them  also  to  admit, 
for  a  short  time,  the  wife  of  the  murdered  marshal.  After  Con- 
cini had  been  assassinated  by  Vitry  and  his  accomplices,  and  his 
body  had  been  dragged  from  the  grave,  and  torn  into  fragments, 
by  an  ignorant  and  savage  populace,  Leonora,  his  widow,  was 
10 


146  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

hurried  to  prison.  She  was  a  daughter  of  the  female  hy  whom 
Mary  of  Medicis  was  nursed,  and  had  been  the  playmate  of  the 
princess.  When  Mary  became  the  consort  of  Henry  IV.,  she 
took  Leonora  in  her  train  to  Paris.  So  attached  was  Mary  to  her, 
that  Leonora  is  said,  by  Mezeray,  "  to  have  directed  at  her  plea- 
sure the  desires,  the  affections,  and  the  hatreds  of  the  queen." 
Riches  were,  of  course,  heaped  upon  her.  She  is  charged  with 
having  fomented  the  disagreements  of  Mary  and  her  inconstant 
husband,  by  making  false  statements,  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  her 
mistress.  If  she  did  so,  which  may  be  doubted,  she  was  per- 
forming a  work  of  supererogation;  for  Henry  rendered  falsehood 
unnecessary,  by  affording  abundant  and  undisguised  cause  for 
complaint.  The  light  of  the  sun  was  not  more  obvious  than  his 
conjugal  infidelity.  It  was  also  objected,  that  she  insolently  shut 
her  door  against  the  princesses  and  nobles,  who  came  to  pay  court 
to  her  in  the  height  of  her  power.  If  this  be  true,  it  proves  only 
that  she  had  spirit  and  good  sense  enough  to  despise  the  syco- 
phancy of  those  by  whom  she  knew  herself  to  be  detested.  It 
is  much  in  favour  of  Leonora's  private  character,  that  Mary  of 
Medicis  was  so  firmly  her  friend;  for,  unlike  the  titled  dames  who 
surrounded  her,  Mary  was  a  modest  and  virtuous  woman.  That 
the  marshal  and  his  partner  fattened  on  the  spoils  of  the  state  it 
would  be  folly  to  deny ;  but,  mean  and  criminal  as  such  conduct 
undoubtedly  is,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  crime  was  com- 
mon to  all  the  courtiers  of  that  period.  Every  one  was  eager,  as 
the  French  phrase  expresses  it,  "  to  carry  off  a  leg  or  a  wing." 
It  was  envy,  not  abhorrence  of  robbing  the  public,  that  caused  the 
destruction  of  Mary's  favourites. 

In  France,  to  live  upon  the  imposts  squeezed  from  the  people 
was  not  deemed  an  impeachable  act,  unless,  perhaps,  by  those 
who  had  failed  to  get  a  share  of  the  pillage ;  and  consequently 
there  was  no  legal  ground  for  dragging  the  widow  of  Concini  to 
the  bar.  But  hatred  is  ingenious  in  finding  means  to  effect  its 
purpose.  Having  first  been  so  effectually  plundered  by  the  police 
officers,  that  she  had  not  even  a  change  of  linen  left,  she  was  sent 
before  a  special  commission,  to  be  tried  for  Judaism  and  sorcery. 
Other  charges  were  brought  forward,  but  it  is  obvious  that  they 
were  only  meant  to  increase  the  odium  under  which  she  was  la- 
bouring. The  trial  was,  throughout,  a  mockery  of  justice.  Evi- 
dence the  most  trivial  in  some  instances,  and  absurd  in  others, 
was  produced  to  substantiate  the  charge  of  Judaism  and  sorcery. 
Some  Hebrew  books,  which  were  found  in  her  apartment,  were 
gravely  supposed  to  be  used  by  her  for  necromantic  purposes. — 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  147 

"By  what  magic  did  you  gain  such  an  influence  over  the  mind 
of  the  queen-mother  ?"  was  one  of  the  questions  put  by  her  judges. 
"My  only  magic,"  replied  the  prisoner,  "was  the  power  strong 
minds  have  over  weak  ones" — a  memorable  reply,  which  goes  far 
to  prove  that  she  was  a  woman  of  superior  talent. 

Though  the  judges  had,  no  doubt,  been  selected  for  the  purpose 
of  ensuring  her  condemnation  to  death,  it  turned  out  that  a  mis- 
take had  been  made  with  respect  to  some  of  them,  and  that  they 
were  not  of  the  opinion  of  d'Estrees,  who  thought  that  the  orders 
of  a  master  ought  to  be  executed,  whether  they  were  just  or  un- 
just. Five  of  them  absented  themselves,  and  a  few  others  voted 
for  banishment.  The  majority,  however,  were  faithful  to  their 
mission,  and  she  was  sentenced  to  be  beheaded,  and  her  remains 
burnt,  and  scattered  to  the  winds.  By  the  same  sentence,  her 
husband's  memory  was  branded  with  infamy,  her  son  was  declar- 
ed ignoble,  and  incapable  of  holding  office  or  dignity  ;  their  man- 
sion, near  the -Louvre,  was  ordered  to  be  leveled  with  the  ground, 
and  all  their  property  was  confiscated. 

On  hearing  this  sentence,  to  which  she  was  compelled  to  listen 
bareheaded,  in  the  midst  of  an  insulting  crowd,  nature  for  a  mo- 
ment prevailed  in  the  bosom  of  Leonora,  and  she  sobbed  loudly. 
The  disgrace  of  her  son  seems  to  have  been  more  painful  to  her 
than  even  her  own  fate.  She  soon,  however,  recovered  herself, 
and  became  resigned  to  her  doom.  When  she  was  led  to  execu- 
tion, her  deportment  so  won  for  her  the  respect  of  the  multitude, 
that  not  a  syllable  of  reproach  was  heard.  She  looked  firmly, 
yet  without  any  theatrical  affectation  of  heroism,  on  the  block  and 
the  flaming  pile  ;  submitted  to  the  blow  without  a  murmur ;  and 
thus  triumphantly  vindicated  her  claim  to  the  possession  of  a 
strong  mind. 

Having  passed  over  an  interval  of  seven  years,  after  the  judi- 
cial murder  of  the  Marchioness  d'Ancre,  we  find  the  Bastile  re- 
ceiving John  Baptist  Ornano,  the  son  of  a  father  who  enjoyed  and 
deserved  the  friendship  of  Henry  IV.  Ornano  was  born  in  1581, 
and  was  not  more  than  fourteen  when  he  commanded  a  company 
of  cavalry  at  the  siege  of  la  Fere.  He  subsequently  served  with 
distinction  in  Savoy  and  other  quarters. 

In  1619,  Louis  the  Thirteenth  appointed  him  governor  of 
Gaston,  Duke  of  Anjou,  the  king's  brother,  who  was  presumptive 
heir  to  the  throne.  Gaston  had,  for  some  time,  been  under  the 
care  of  the  Count  de  Lude,  than  whom  it  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  find  a  man  more  unfit  for  his  office,  unless  he  was  chosen 
for  the  purpose  of  leading  his  pupil  astray.  Ornano,  by  a  proper 


148  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

mixture  of  firmness  and  kindness,  soon  succeeded  in  perfectly 
acquiring  the  respect  and  affection  of  the  prince.  One  part  of 
the  system,  by  which  he  purposed  to  break  the  bad  habits  of  his 
youthful  charge,  is  said  to  have  consisted  in  awakening  his  am- 
bition. With  this  view  he  dwelt  upon  the  strong  probability  of 
the  prince  succeeding  to  the  crown,  and  the  necessity  of  making 
himself  acquainted  with  affairs  of  state  ;  and  he  taught  him  to 
believe,  that  he  ctfuld  gain  such  knowledge  only  by  being  admit- 
ted into  the  king's  council.  It  may  be  supposed  that,  in  thus 
acting,  Ornano  was  not  without  an  eye  to  his  own  advancement 
and  influence.  La  Vieville,  however,  who  then  ruled,  did  not 
wish  to  see  Gaston  in  the  council,  and  still  less  Ornano.  He 
therefore  persuaded  Louis  to  remove  the  prince's  governor,  and 
send  him  into  Provence.  Ornano  refused  to  resign,  and  he  was 
punished  by  being  sent  to  the  Bastile,  whence  he  was  transferred 
to  the  castle  of  Caen. 

Gaston  remonstrated  strongly  against  being  deprived  of  his 
friend  and  preceptor ;  but  his  remonstrances  would  probably  have 
been  of  little  avail  had  not  la  Vieville  been  precipitated  from 
power.  Ornano  was  then  released  by  the  king,  and  was  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  prince's  household.  In  1620,  at  the  request  of 
Gaston,  seconded  by  the  advice  of  Richelieu,  he  was  created  Mar- 
shal of  France.  This  promotion  was  the  precursor  of  his  fall. 
It  was  a  part  of  the  policy  of  Richelieu  to  grant,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, more  to  suitors  of  rank  than  they  were  entitled  to  expect, 
that,  in  case  of  their  afterwards  opposing  him,  he  might  treat  them 
without  mercy.  It  appears  he  soon  began  to  suspect  that  the 
new-made  marshal  was  not  likely  to  be  a  submissive  dependent, 
and  this  was  enough  to  induce  him  to  work  his  ruin.  Ornano 
himself  aided  his  dangerous  enemy,  by  pertinaciously  requiring 
admittance  into  the  council,  and  by  using  offensive  language  on 
his  demand  being  refused.  Various  acts  of  the  marshal  were  now 
represented  in  the  darkest  colours  to  the  suspicious  king  by  Riche- 
lieu ;  and  Louis,  always  open  to  suggestions  of  this  kind,  impri- 
soned the  supposed  offender  in  the  castle  of  Vincennes.  Ornano 
died  there,  in  September,  1626.  His  death  was  attributed  to 
poison,  but  the  report  was  certainly  unfounded.  Whether,  if  he 
had  lived,  he  would  have  saved  his  head,  is  doubtful;  for  when 
Richelieu  had  once  resolved  to  have  a  man's  head,  it  was  not  easy 
to  disappoint  him. 

Among  the  few  whom  justice,  not  tyranny  or  caprice,  immured 
within  the  walls  of  the  Bastile,  may  be  reckoned  Francis,  Count 
de  Bouteville,  of  the  ancient  and  illustrious  family  of  Montmo- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  B  A  STILE.  149 

renci,  whose  father,  Louis  de  Montmorenci,  was  Vice- Admiral  of 
France  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  The  example  which 
was  made  of  him  was  necessary  to  vindicate  the  insulted  laws 
and  to  check  a  murderous  practice  which  had  shed  some  of  the 
best  blood  in  the  kingdom.  For  a  long  series  of  years,  in  defiance 
of  the  severe  edicts  issued  against  it  by  Henry  IV.  and  Louis 
XIII.,  dueling  had  been  carried  to  an  extent  which  it  is  frightful 
to  contemplate.  War  itself  would  scarcely  have  swept  off  more 
victims  of  the  privileged  class  than  were  sacrificed  in  private  and 
frivolous  quarrels.  Paris,  in  particular,  swarmed  with  professed 
duelists,  who  gloried  in  their  exploits,  and  counted  up  their  slain 
with  the  same  exultation  that  a  sportsman  counts  the  game  he  has 
killed.  Some,  who  prided  themselves  on  a  peculiar  delicacy  of 
honour,  were  ever  on  the  watch  to  find  a  pretext  for  taking  offence. 
Even  to  look  at  them,  to  touch  any  part  of  their  dress  in  passing 
by  them,  or  to  utter  a  word  which  could  be  misconstrued,  sufficed 
to  draw  from  them  a  challenge  to  mortal  combat. 

Bouteville  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  of  these  offenders. 
In  1624,  M.  Pontgibaud,  in  1626,  the  Count  de  Thorigny,  and  the 
Marquis  Desportes,  and  in  January,  1627,  M.  Lafrette,  fell  be- 
neath his  weapon.  In  consequence  of  the  last  of  these  encounters, 
he,  and  his  second,  the  Count  des  Chappelles,  were  compelled  to 
take  refuge  at  Brussels.  Thither  he  was  followed  by  the  Marquis 
de  Beuvron,  a  relation  of  the  Count  de  Thorigny,  who  was  eager 
to  avenge  his  death.  The  Archduchess  Isabella,  who  then  go- 
verned the  Netherlands,  brought  about  a  semblance  of  reconcilia- 
tion between  them,  but  their  rancour  remained  unabated;  for  even 
at  the  moment  when,  in  sign  of  forgiveness,  they  embraced  each 
other,  Beuvron  whispered  to  Bouteville,  "  I  shall  never  be  satisfied 
until  I  have  met  you  sword  in  hand." 

The  archduchess  also  solicited  Louis  the  Thirteenth  to  grant 
the  pardon  of  Bouteville,  but  the  monarch  refused.  On  hearing 
this,  the  rash  and  insolent  culprit  exclaimed,  "  Since  a  pardon  is 
denied,  I  will  fight  in  Paris,  ay,  and  in  the  Place  Royale,  too!" 
He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  In  May  he  returned  to  the  French 
capital,  and  his  first  step  was  to  offer  Beuvron  the  satisfaction 
which  that  nobleman  had  expressed  a  wish  to  obtain.  A  combat 
of  three  against  three  was  arranged,  and  the  Place  Royale  was 
chosen  as  the  spot  for  deciding  it.  Beuvron  was  seconded  by 
Buquet,  his  equerry,  and  by  Bussy  d'Amboise,the  latter  of  whom 
had  been  ill  of  fever  for  several  days,  and  was  weakened  by  re- 
peated bleedings.  Bouteville  brought  with  him  des  Chappelles, 


150  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

his  cousin,  and  constant  auxiliary  on  such  occasions,  and  another 
gentleman.  They  fought  with  sword  and  dagger. 

Bussy  being  killed  by  des  Chappelles,  the  five  remaining  com- 
batants, who  began  to  dread  the  vengeance  of  the  violated  laws, 
sought  for  safety  in  flight.  Beuvron  and  Buquet  succeeded  in 
escaping  to  England.  Bouteville  and  his  cousin  fled  towards 
Lorraine.  Unfortunately  for  them,  Louis  the  Thirteenth  was  then 
at  the  Louvre,  and,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  duel,  he  ordered  a 
vigorous  pursuit  of  the  offenders.  At  Vitry,  in  Champagne, 
the  officers  of  justice  overtook  Bouteville  and  his  associate;  the 
latter  wished  to  resist,  but  the  former  prevailed  on  him  to  surren- 
der. On  their  arrival  at  Paris,  they  were  committed  to  the  Bas- 
tile,  and  no  time  was  lost  in  bringing  them  to  trial. 

From  all  quarters  the  king  was  importuned  by  entreaties  to 
pardon  the  criminals.  The  Countess  de  Bouteville  threw  herself 
at  his  feet  to  beg  the  life  of  her  husband ;  but  he  passed  on  with- 
out replying.  "  I  pity  her,"  said  he  to  his  courtiers,  "  but  I  must 
and  will  maintain  my  authority."  The  nobility  were  not  more 
successful  in  their  supplications  to  the  king  and  the  parliament. 
At  the  trial  all  that  forensic  talent  could  do  for  the  prisoners  was 
done  by  Chastelet,  their  counsel.  The  plea  which  he  put  in  for 
them  was  written  with  so  much  eloquence  and  boldness,  that  Car- 
dinal Richelieu  sternly  told  him  it  seemed  to  impeach  the  justice 
of  the  king.  "  Excuse  me,  sir,"  replied  Chastelet,  "  it  is  only 
meant  to  justify  his  mercy,  in  case  he  should  extend  it  to  one  of 
the  bravest  men  in  his  kingdom."  When  the  sentence  of  death 
was  passed,  another  effort  was  made  to  move  the  king.  The 
Princess  of  Conde,  accompanied  by  three  duchesses,  and  the  wife 
of  Bouteville,  requested  an  audience  of  his  majesty.  He  at  first 
refused  to  see  them;  but  he  subsequently  admitted  them  to  a  pri- 
vate interview  in  the  queen's  apartments.  They  pleaded  in  vain. 
"  I  regret  their  fate  as  much  as  you  do,"  said  he  ;  "but  my  con- 
science forbids  me  to  pardon  them." 

Bouteville  seems,  from  the  beginning,  to  have  made  up  his  mind 
to  die,  and  to  have  been  unfeignedly  repentant.  While  he  was 
in  the  Bastile  he  was  attended  by  Cospean,  the  Bishop  of  Nantes, 
one  of  the  most  highly  gifted  preachers  of  the  age.  It  was  by 
the  exhortations  of  this  pious  prelate  that  Bouteville  was  awakened 
to  a  due  sense  of  his  crimes.  So  moved  was  he  by  the  fervid 
eloquence  of  his  spiritual  guide  that,  while  his  trial  was  yet  pend- 
ing, he  said  to  him,  and  doubtless  with  perfect  sincerity,  "  So  re- 
signed am  I  to  the  will  of  God,  and  so  ready  to  do  everything  to 
save  my  soul,  if  to  save  it  be  possible,  that,  even  more  pressingly 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  151 

than  my  wife  now  begs  for  my  pardon,  I  will  beg  my  judges  to 
condemn  me  to  the  gibbet,  and  to  be  drawn  to  it  on  a  hurdle,  in 
order  to  render  my  death  more  ignominious  and  meritorious."  It 
was  not  without  difficulty  that  Cospean  could  dissuade  him  from 
seeking  salvation  by  means  of  this  extraordinary  self-abasement. 
Contrition  alone,  and  not  an  act  which  would  cast  a  stigma  on  his 
family,  the  prelate  justly  observed,  was  required  to  appease  the 
wrath  of  an  offended  Deity. 

Bouteville  and  his  cousin  met  death  with  much  firmness;  the 
former  refused  to  allow  his  eyes  to  be  bandaged.  On  the  scaf- 
fold a  circumstance  occurred,  which  appears  to  prove  that  vanity, 
like  hope,  sometimes  does  not  leave  us  till  we  die.  The  musta- 
chios  of  Bouteville  were  large  and  handsome,  and  he  put  up  his 
hands,  as  though  to  save  them,  when  the  executioner  came  to  cut 
off  his  hair.  "  What !  my  son,"  exclaimed  Cospean,  who  attended 
him  to  the  last,  "are  you  still  thinking  on  this  world?" 

The  plan  which,  under  seemingly  favourable  auspices,  was 
formed  by  Mary  of  Medicis  and  her  partisans  to  subvert  the 
power  of  Richelieu,  and  which  was  shattered  to  pieces  on  the  day 
emphatically  called  the  Day  of  the  Dupes,  (November  11, 1630,) 
was  disastrous  to  many  who  were  concerned  in  or  suspected  of 
favouring  it.  Of  the  Marillacs,  one,  a  proved  soldier,  was  brought 
to  the  scaffold;  the  other, a  magistrate  of  unimpeachable  conduct, 
was  hurried  from  one  prison  to  another,  and  closely  confined,  and 
he  died  a  captive.  But  we  must  restrict  ourselves  to  those  indi- 
viduals who  were  committed  to  the  Bastile.  One  of  these  was 
Vautier,  born  at  Montpelier,  in  1592,  who  was  the  queen-mother's 
principal  physician.  If  we  were  to  give  credit  to  Guy  Patin,  we 
must  believe  that  Vautier  was  a  worse  pest  than  a  whole  host  of 
duelists,  and  richly  deserved  to  be  the  inmate  of  a  dungeon. 
"  He  was,"  says  Patin,  "a  rascally  Jew  of  the  Avignonese  terri- 
tory, very  proud  and  very  ignorant,  who  was  lucky  in  having 
escaped  the  gallows  for  coining,  and  who  afterwards  found  means 
to  wriggle  himself  in  at  court."  But  the  evidence  of  Patin  is 
liable  to  more  than  suspicion  in  this  instance;  for  Vautier  was  a 
friend  to  antimony  and  chemical  remedies,  all  of  which  his  cen- 
surer  held  in  abhorrence:  to  prescribe  them  was  worse  in  his 
eyes  than  being  guilty  of  all  the  deadly  sins.  Vautier,  however, 
certainly  appears  to  have  been  of  an  obstinate  disposition,  and  at 
times  unjust. 

Vautier  was  believed  to  have  so  much  influence  with  the  queegn- 
mother,  that  he  was  one  of  the  first  to  be  arrested  after  the  Day 
of  the  Dupes.  He  was  confined  for  a  while  at  Senlis,  whence  he 


152  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  removed  to  the  Bastile.  In  the  Parisian  fortress  he  remained 
for  twelve  years,  during  which  period  no  communication  with  him 
was  permitted.  It  was  in  vain  that,  after  her  flight,  when  she 
was  so  dangerously  ill  at  Ghent,  Mary  of  Medicis  entreated  to 
have  the  services  of  her  confidential  physician.  Richelieu  kept 
fast  hold  of  his  prey.  In  1643,  the  captive  was  set  at  liberty  by 
Mazarin,  who  subsequently  appointed  him  head  physician  to  the 
king.  Patin  flings  his  venom  upon  this  appointment.  It  was, 
he  says,  bought  of  the  minister  for  twenty  thousand  crowns,  and 
the  purchaser  was  to  act  as  his  spy.  He  adds  an  insinuation 
which  does  no  credit  to  his  heart.  "See  what  policy  is!"  he  ex- 
claims ;  "  this  man  was  twelve  years  imprisoned  by  the  father, 
yet  the  health  of  the  son  is  entrusted  to  him."  M.  Patin  seems 
to  have  thought,  that  a  man  who  has  been  injured  by  the  parent, 
must  needs  wish  to  poison  the  child.  Vautier  died  in  1652. 

The  grave  physician  is  succeeded  by  a  very  different  person- 
age; a  courtier  of  high  birth,  handsome,  accomplished,  full  of 
gallantry  in  both  senses  of  the  word,  witty,  and  with  his  natural 
talents  improved  by  early  study.  Francis  de  Bassompierre,  who 
was  all  this,  was  born  in  Lorraine,  in  1579,  and  was  descended 
from  the  princely  house  of  Cleves.  On  returning  from  his  travels, 
he  visited  the  court  of  Henry  IV.,  and  soon  acquired  the  friend- 
ship of  that  sovereign.  Among  a  crowd  of  courtiers,  each  vying 
with  the  other  in  splendour  and  extravagance,  he  was  one  of  the 
foremost.  At  the  baptism  of  the  king's  children,  he  wore  a  dress 
of  cloth  of  gold,  covered  with  pearls,  the  cost  of  which  was  nine 
hundred  pounds.  Gaming,  thanks  to  the  bad  example  set  by 
Henry,  was  scandalously  prevalent ;  and  here,  too,  Bassompierre 
was  prominent.  He  tells  us,  in  his  memoirs,  that  not  a  day 
passed,  while  he  was  at  Fontainebleau,  in  which  twenty  thousand 
pistoles  were  not  won  and  lost,  and  that  he  was  a  winner  of  half 
a  million  of  livres  within  twelve  months. 

Desirous  of  adding  the  reputation  of  a  soldier  to  his  other  pre- 
tensions, he  served  a  campaign  in  Savoy,  in  1602,  and  in  Hungary 
the  following  year.  Having  established  his  military  character,  he 
resumed  his  station  at  the  French  court.  The  greatest  part  of 
the  business  of  his  life  seems  now,  and  for  many  years,  to  have 
been  amorous  intrigues — to  apply  the  word  love  to  them  would 
be  a  profanation  of  it.  However  eager  he  might  be  to  swell  the 
number  of  his  conquests,  there  is  the  best  reason  for  believing 
that  those  whom  he  attacked  were  willing  enough  to  be  overcome. 
It  at  once  proves  his  attractions,  and  speaks  volumes  as  to  the  low 
state  of  morals  among  the  females  at  that  period,  that  when,  at  a 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  153 

kter  date,  Bassompierre  was  about  to  be  imprisoned,  he  burnt 
more  than  six  thousand  letters,  which  contained  the  proofs  of  his 
amatory  success.  One  of  the  most  notorious  of  his  amours  was 
that  in  which  he  involved  himself  with  Mdlle.  Entragues,  sister 
of  the  king's  mistress,  the  Marchioness  of  Verneuil.  By  this  lady 
he  had  a  son.  She  is  said  to  have  obtained  from  him  a  promise 
of  marriage,  and  for  several  years  she  sought  to  enforce  the  per- 
formance of  it,  and  persisted  in  bearing  his  name.  Meeting  him 
one  day  at  the  Louvre,  she  told  him  publicly  that  he  ought  to 
cause  the  customary  honours  to  be  paid  to  her  there,  as  his  wife. 
"Why,"  said  he,  "  will  you  take  a  nom  de  guerre?"  "You  are 
the  greatest  fool  in  all  the  court !"  exclaimed  the  enraged  lady. 
"What  would  you  have  said  to  me,  then,  if  I  had  married  you  ?" 
retorted  the  provoking  Bassompierre. 

In  1605,  the  career  of  the  gay  deceiver  was  near  being  cut 
short  by  a  serious  accident.  At  a  tournament,  in  front  of  the 
Louvre,  where  the  king  was  present,  Bassompierre  was  so  severely 
wounded  by  the  lance  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  his  antagonist,  that 
his  life  was  long  in  danger.  This  tournament  was  the  last  which 
was  exhibited  in  France;  the  dangerous  amusement  was  discon- 
tinued, in  consequence  of  this  misadventure.  People  began  to  be 
of  the  same  opinion  as  the  Turkish  sultan,  that  it  was  too  much 
for  a  jest  and  too  little  for  earnest. 

Bassompierre  at  last  appears  to  have  felt  that  it  was  time  for 
him  "to  live  cleanly  as  a  nobleman  should  do,"  and  he  resolved 
to  marry.  His  choice  fell  on  Charlotte  de  Montmorenci,  one  of 
the  most  rich  and  beautiful  women  in  France,  and  neither  she 
nor  her  father,  the'  constable,  was  averse  to  the  union.  It  has 
been  seen,  in  the  sketch  of  Conde's  career,  that  Henry  IV.  became 
excessively  enamoured  of  her.  In  some  cases  her  marriage  would 
have  made  no  difference ;  as  Henry  might  have  assented  to  it, 
and  bound  down  the  husband  not  to  exercise  his  conjugal  rights, 
as  he  had  done  with  respect  to  Gabrielle  d'Estrees  and  Jacqueline 
du  Beuil.  To  such  a  restriction  he  probably  thought  that  Bas- 
sompierre would  not  submit.  Calling  him  therefore  to  his  bed- 
side— for  Henry  was  ill  of  the  gout — he  told  him  that  he  meant 
to  unite  him  to  Mdlle.  d'Aumale,  and  revive  for  him  the  dukedom 
of  Aumale.  On  Bassompierre  asking  with  a  smile  whether  his 
majesty  meant  him  to  have  two  wives,  the  king  sighed  deeply, 
and  said,  "Bassompierre,  I  will  speak  to  you  as  a  friend.  I  am 
become  not  only  in  love  with  Mdlle.  de  Montmorenci,  but  abso- 
lutely beside  myself  for  her.  If  you  marry  her,  and  she  loves 
you,  I  shall  hate  you ;  if  she  loves  me,  you  will  hate  me.  It  is 


154  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

much  better  that  this  should  not  occur,  to  disturb  the  good  under- 
standing between  us ;  for  I  have  the  most  affectionate  regard  for 
you."  The  result  was  that  the  courtier  resigned  his  mistress,  and 
was  rewarded  for  the  sacrifice  with  the  rank  of  colonel-general  of 
the  Swiss  regiments.  Bassompierre  would  fain  make  us  believe 
that  he  was  sorely  grieved  at  being  thus  deprived  of  the  beautiful 
Montrnorenci ;  but  we  may  be  skeptical  on  this  head,  since  we 
have  his  confession  that,  in  order  "not  to  be  idle,  and  to  console 
himself  for  his  loss,  he  immediately  made  up  his  quarrel  with 
three  ladies,  whom  he  had  entirely  quitted  when  he  thought  that 
he  should  be  wedded." 

For  more  than  twenty  years,  Bassompierre  continued  to  be  a 
flourishing  courtier.  Once  only,  in  that  long  period,  he  was  in 
danger ;  it  was  from  the  hostility  of  la  Vieville,  the  minister,  who 
strove  to  cage  him  in  the  Bastile.  The  time  of  Bassompierre  was, 
however,  not  yet  come,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  witness  the 
downfall  of  his  enemy.  In  the  course  of  these  twenty  years,  he 
acquired  reputation,  both  in  the  field  and  the  cabinet;  he  was 
active  at  various  sieges  and  battles,  particularly  at  the  sieges  of 
Rochelle  and  Montauban,  and  he  was  entrusted  with  embassies  to 
Spain,  Switzerland,  and  England,  which  he  executed  in  an  able 
manner.  For  a  short  time  he  had  the  custody  of  the  Bastile ;  and, 
in  1623,  he  rose  to  the  rank  of  marshal.  His  being  employed  as 
a  negotiator  was  the  work  of  the  royal  favourite,  Luynes,  who 
was  jealous  of  the  influence  which  Bassompierre  possessed  with 
the  monarch.  Luynes  was  candid  enough  to  confess  this.  "I  love 
you,  and  esteem  you,"  said  he,  "but  the  likinsr  which  the  king 
has  for  you  gives  me  umbrage.  I  am,  in  truth,  situated  like  a 
husband  who  fears  being  deceived,  and  cannot  see  with  pleasure 
an  amiable  man  frequenting  his  wife."  To  remove  from  court  the 
man  whom  he  dreaded,  Luynes  offered  the  choice  of  a  command, 
a  government,  or  an  embassy ;  Bassompierre  chose  the  last. 

Richelieu  proved  a  far  more  formidable  adversary  than  la  Vie- 
ville. He  doubted  not  that  Bassompierre  had  been  engaged  in  the 
late  plot  against  him;  he  knew  that  he  was  a  friend  to  the  queen 
mother;  and  he  suspected  him  of  having  borne  a  part  in  the  clan- 
destine marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  with  the  Princess  Mar- 
garet of  Lorraine.  It  is  said,  also,  that  the  cardinal  imagined  the 
marshal  to  have  voted  for  imprisoning  him,  in  case  of  the  malcon- 
tents being  successful.  This  was  more  than  enough  to  bring  down 
on  him  the  vengeance  of  the  triumphant  minister.  Bassompierre 
was  warned  more  than  once  of  what  would  happen,  and  was  ad- 
vised to  escape,  but  he  refused  to  follow  this  advice.  He  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  155 

taken  to  the  Bastile  in  February  1631.  His  arrest  cost  the  death 
of  the  Princess  of  Conti,  to  whom  he  had  long  been  secretly 
married ;  she  died  of  grief  in  little  more  than  two  months. 

Bassompierre  had  reason  to  hope  that  his  imprisonment  would 
be  but  of  short  duration.  The  evening  before  he  was  seized,  he 
had  mentioned  to  the  king  the  reports  which  were  afloat,  and  Louis 
had  declared  them  to  be  false,  and  expressed  much  affection  for 
him.  The  day  after  the  deed  was  done,  the  monarch  sent  him  a 
message,  that  he  considered  him  to  be  a  faithful  servant,  that  he 
was  not  arrested  for  any  fault,  but  in  the  fear  of  his  being  led  to 
commit  one,  and  that  he  should  soon  be  released.  Year  after  year 
elapsed,  however,  and  the  promised  liberation  was  still  delayed. 
Hopes  were  often  held  out  to  him,  apparently  with  no  other  inten- 
tion than  that  of  making  him  feel  the  pain  of  disappointment. 
There  seems,  indeed,  to  have  been  a  malignant  resolution  formed  to 
torment  him.  The  grain  on  his  Lorraine  estate  was  seized,  the  estate 
itself  was  ravaged,  his  nephew's  mansion  was  destroyed,  his  pay 
was  stopped,  cabals  were  excited  against  him  in  the  Bastile,  and 
he  was  compelled  to  relinquish  his  commission  of  colonel-general 
for  an  inadequate  compensation.  Yet,  while  Richelieu  was  acting 
thus,  he  could  ask  Bassompierre  to  lend  him  his  country-house ! 
To  add  to  the  prisoner's  vexations,  his  property  was  going  to  ruin, 
some  of  his  friends  proved  faithless,  and  death  was  busy  among 
his  dearest  relatives. 

It  was  twelve  years  before  the  decease  of  Richelieu  gave  free- 
dom to  Bassompierre.  His  post  of  colonel-general  was  restored 
to  him  by  Mazarin ;  and  an  intention  was  manifested  of  appointing 
him  governor  to  the  minor  king,  but  this  intention  was  frustrated 
by  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  which  put  an  end  to  his  existence  in  Octo- 
ber, 1646. 

Of  the  many  individuals  who  were  persecuted  by  the  cardinal- 
king,  none  were  more  estimable  than  Francis  de  Rochechouart, 
who  was  usually  denominated  the  Chevalier  de  Jars.  He  was  of 
an  ancient  and  noble  family,  which  traced  back  its  origin  to  the 
Viscounts  of  Limoges,  early  in  the  eleventh  century.  To  great 
personal  and  mental  graces,  and  prepossessing  manners,  he  added 
a  mind  of  such  firmness  as  is  not  of  common  occurrence,  espe- 
cially among  the  courtier  tribe.  His  eminent  qualities  gained 
him  the  friendship  of  Anne  of  Austria,  which  alone  was  suffi- 
cient to  excite  the  suspicion  and  hatred  of  Richelieu — that  ultra 
Turk,  who  could  bear  "no  rival  near  his  throne,"  nor  even  the 
friend  of  any  one  who  could  possibly  become  a  rival.  In  1626, 
de  Jars  was  therefore  ordered  to  quit  the  court.  He  retired  lo 


166  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

England,  where  he  soon  won  the  favour  of  Charles  L,  his  Queen 
Henrietta  Maria,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  other  distin- 
guished characters.  Bassompierre,  an  acute  observer,  was  at 
that  time  in  England  as  ambassador  from  Louis  XIII.,  and  from 
the  manner  in  which  he  mentions  him,  it  is  evident  that  de  Jars 
was  in  high  repute  at  the  court  of  Charles. 

In  1631,  de  Jars  was  allowed  to  return,  or  was  recalled  to  his 
native  country.  Whether  he  was  lured  over  to  France,  that  he 
might  be  within  the  grasp  of  his  potent  enemy,  cannot  now  be 
ascertained.  It  is  probable  that  he  was,  for  he  did  not  long  remain 
at  liberty.  In  February,  1632,  he  was  involved  in  the  downfall 
of  Chateauneuf,  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  who  had  inexpiably  of- 
fended the  implacable  minister.  De  Jars  had  sufficient  demerit 
to  bring  down  this  misfortune  on  him ;  he  was  the  friend,  and,  as 
Bassompierre  affirms,  the  confidant  of  Chateauneuf,  possessed  the 
queen's  esteem,  and  was,  perhaps,  suspected  of  being  looked  upon 
with  a  favourable  eye  by  the  beautiful  and  fickle  Duchess  of 
Chevreuse,  of  whom  Richelieu  was  enamoured.  As,  however, 
the  first  two  of  these  offences  would  have  hardly  justified  his  im- 
prisonment and  trial,  and  as  the  third  had  the  same  defect  in  a 
greater  degree,  and,  besides,  could  not  have  been  decorously  urged 
against  him  by  a  high  dignitary  of  the  church,  the  crime  attri- 
buted to  him  was  that  of  assisting  Anne  of  Austria  to  correspond 
with  Spain,  and  of  planning  the  removal  to  England  of  the  queen- 
mother  and  the  Duke  of  Orleans. 

It  was  the  depth  of  winter  when  de  Jars  was  thrown  into  one 
of  the  dungeons  of  the  Bastile,  and  there  he  was  kept  for  eleven 
months,  till  the  clothes  rotted  off  his  back.  The  reader  will  re- 
member what  horrible  abodes  these  dungeons  were.  It  being 
supposed,  perhaps,  that  his  spirit  was  by  this  time  enough  broken, 
he  was  sent  for  trial  to  Tours,  where  a  tribunal  of  obedient  judges 
had  been  formed,  for  the  express  purpose  of  sitting  in  judgment 
upon  him.  At  the  head  of  this  tribunal  was  one  Laffemas,  or  La 
Fymas ;  a  man  who  was  redeemed  from  the  contempt  of  mankind 
for  his  baseness,  only  by  the  hatred  which  was  excited  by  his 
power  and  will  to  do  mischief.  He  was  the  ready  tool,  or,  to  use 
a  more  emphatic  and  appropriate  French  phrase,  the  dme  damne'e 
of  Richelieu,  and  was  capable  of  diving  to  the  lowest  deep  of  de- 
gradation in  the  service  of  his  master.  He  bore  the  well-earned 
and  significant  nickname  of  "the  cardinal's  hangman." 

At  the  Bastile  and  at  Troyes,de  Jars  underwent  no  fewer  than 
eighty  examinations.  In  these,  Laffemas  strained  every  nerve  to 
seduce,  or  beguile,  or  terrify,  the  prisoner  into  avowals  which 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  157 

would  manifest  or  imply  guilt  in  himself  or  in  his  friends.  But 
de  Jars  was  proof  alike  against  feigned  sympathy,  entreaties,  artful 
snares  and  ferocious  threats.  Not  a  word  dropped  from  his  lips 
by  which  any  one  could  be  criminated.  Laffemas  had  no  sine- 
cure office  in  conducting  this  iniquitous  affair;  he  was  often  lashed 
by  de  Jars  with  unsparing  severity,  as  a  mendacious  and  deceitful 
coward ;  nor  did  the  cardinal  himself  escape  without  a  full  portion 
of  stinging  censure. 

De  Jars  did  not  stop  here.  He  determined  to  inflict  a  public 
disgrace  upon  Laffemas.  By  dint  of  importunity,  he  obtained 
permission  to  hear  mass,  on  All  Saints'  day,  in  the  church  of  the 
Jacobins,  where  he  knew  that  Laffemas  would  be  present. 
Thither  he  was  taken,  under  a  strong  guard.  Watching  the 
moment  when,  with  downcast  eyes  and  a  Tartuffe  countenance, 
Laffemas  was  coming  from  the  communion  table,  he  broke  from 
his  guards,  and  seized  the  judge  by  the  throat.  "Villain!"  ex- 
claimed he,  "this  is  the  moment  to  confess  the  truth.  Now, 
while  your  God  is  on  your  lips,  acknowledge  my  innocence,  and 
your  injustice  in  persecuting  me.  As  you  pretend  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian, act  like  one:  if  you  do  not,  I  renounce  you  as  my  judge, 
and  I  call  upon  every  one  who  hears  me  to  bear  witness  that  I 
protest  against  your  being  so." 

This  singular  scene  drew  the  wondering  congregation  round 
the  parties.  But  the  people  were  by  no  means  inclined  to  inter- 
fere in  behalf  of  the  intendant,  and  some  time  elapsed  before  the 
soldiers  could  extricate  him  from  the  gripe  of  the  prisoner.  Laf- 
femas seems  not  to  have  been  deficient  in  courage.  Undiscon- 
certed  by  this  sudden  attack,  he  said,  in  a  conciliating  tone,  "Do 
not  make  yourself  uneasy,  sir;  I  assure  you  that  the  cardinal 
loves  you;  you  will  get  off  with  merely  going  to  travel  in  Italy; 
but  you  must  first  allow  us  to  show  you  some  billets,  in  your  own 
hand-writing,  which  will  convince  you  that  you  are  more  blame- 
able  than  you  say  you  are."  "Such  an  insinuation,"  remarks 
Anquetil,  "was  not  calculated  to  set  him  at  ease.  Richelieu,  as 
Madame  de  Motteville  tells  us,  said,  that  'with  two  lines  of  a 
man's  writing,  however  innocent  that  man  might  be,  he  might  be 
brought  to  trial;  because,  by  proper  management,  whatever  was 
wanted  could  be  found  in  them.'  Accordingly,  when  de  Jars 
heard  talk  of  writing,  he  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  but  he  soon 
armed  himself  with  renovated  courage." 

The  insinuation  that  written  evidence  existed  was  a  falsehood. 
Fresh  arts  were  therefore  employed  to  obtain  a  confession. 
They  were  as  fruitless  as  all  the  former  had  been.  Sentence  of 


158  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


death  was  then  passed;  and,  this  having  been  done,  final  efforts 
mere  made  to  move  him,  first  by  a  promise  of  pardon,  next  by  the 
menace  of  torture.  He  treated  both  with  contempt.  He  was  at 
last  led  to  the  scaffold;  he  ascended  it  with  calm  courage;  and, 
after  once  more  asserting  his  innocence,  he  laid  his  head  upon 
the  block.  While  he  was  waiting  for  the  blow,  and  all  earthly 
hopes  must  have  been  dead  in  his  bosom,  he  was  suddenly  raised 
up,  and  told  that  his  life  was  spared.  As  he  was  about  to  descend 
from  the  scaffold,  the  infamous  Laffemas  approached,  and  besought 
him,  in  return  for  the  king's  mercy,  to  disclose  whatever  he  knew 
respecting  the  misdeeds  of  Chateauneuf.  But  de  Jars  disdain- 
fully replied,  "It  is  in  vain  that  you  seek  to  take  advantage  of 
my  disturbed  state  of  mind;  since  the  fear  of  death  failed  to  ex- 
tort from  me  anything  that  could  injure  my  friend,  you  may  be 
certain  that  all  your  labour  will  be  thrown  away."* 

It  is  said  that  the  whole  of  this  scene — a  disgraceful  scene  to 
all  the  actors  but  one — was  got  up  by  Laffemas  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Richelieu.  Packed  as  the  judges  were,  it  was  supposed 
that,  if  they  thought  death  were  to  ensue,  even  they  would  shrink 
from  pronouncing  the  guilt  of  a  man  against  whom  there  was  not 
a  shadow  of  proof.  The  pardon  was,  therefore,  shown  to  them, 
and  they  were  told  that  the  mockery  of  an  execution  was  only 
meant  to  intimidate  the  prisoner  into  the  desired  confession.  But 
of  what  stuff  must  judges  have  been  made  in  those  days,  when 
they  could  thus  consent  to  violate  the  dignity  of  justice,  and  the 
feelings  of  humanity,  in  order  to  gratify  the  malice  of  a  minister! 

From  Troyes,  de  Jars  was  sent  back  to  the  Bastile.  He  re- 
mained there  till  the  spring  of  1638,  when  he  was  liberated  on 
condition  of  his  immediate  departure,  to  travel  in  Italy.  From 
Guy  Patin's  letters,  we  learn  that  the  chevalier  was  indebted  for 

*  Biographers  and  historians  differ  with  respect  to  the  circumstances  which 
ensued  on  the  pardon  being  announced.  While  some  give  the  statement  which 
I  have  adopted,  others  affirm  that,  when  de  Jars  was  taken  back  to  prison,  he 
remained  for  a  long  while  speechless,  and  seemingly  deprived  of  all  conscious- 
ness. This  is  asserted  by  Madame  de  Motteville;  and,  as  she  was  his  intimate 
friend,  her  authority  has  considerable  weight.  But  her  assertion  may  be  correct, 
and  yet  it  is  more  than  probable  that  de  Jars  may  have  made  the  reply  which  is 
attributed  to  him.  I  think  the  conduct  ascribed  to  him  in  the  text  more  conso- 
nant than  any  other  with  his  intrepid  character.  Nature,  however,  can  endure 
only  to  a  certain  point,  and  the  effort  that  is  made  to  bear  up,  and  which,  as  long 
as  danger  is  present,  seldom  fails  with  the  honourable  and  brave,  necessarily 
produces  exhaustion  when  the  struggle  is  over.  Jt  may  therefore  easily  be  be- 
lieved, that,  though  de  Jars  was  capable  of  answering  Laffemas  with  his  wonted 
spirit — and  the  very  sight  of  such  a  monster  would  stimulate  that  spirit — he 
might  sink  into  insensibility  on  his  return  to  prison. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  159 

his  release  to  the  intercession  of  Charles  I.  of  England  and  Hen- 
rietta Maria.  He  did  not  return  to  France  till  after  the  decease 
of  his  persecutor. 

De  Jars  was  engaged  in  the  early  part  of  the  political  contest, 
which  led  to  the  ridiculous  war  of  the  Fronde;  but  he  seems  to 
have  been  rather  a  peace-maker  than  a  firebrand,  for  he  endea- 
voured to  arrange  matters  by  bringing  about  a  reconciliation  be- 
tween Mazarin,  with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted  at  Rome, 
and  Chateauneuf,  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  of  whom  he  was  a 
constant  friend.  He  at  length  withdrew  from  the  court,  passed 
his  latter  years  in  happy  retirement,  and  died  in  1670. 

Nearly  at  the  same  time  that  de  Jars  was  set  free,  the  gates  of 
the  Bastile  were  opened  to  admit  three  citizens  of  Paris,  who  had 
been  guilty  of  a  crime  which  could  not  be  overlooked ;  they  had 
dared  to  remonstrate,  perhaps  somewhat  too  roughly,  against  be- 
ing robbed  of  the  means  of  subsistence.  "They  went,"  says  Guy 
Patin,  «*  to  M.  Corneuil,  and  in  some  degree  threatened  him,  on  a 
report  being  spread  that  the  payment  of  the  annuities  receivable 
at  the  Town  Hall  was  about  to  be  suspended,  and  the  money  to  be 
applied  in  usus  bellicos.  The  names  of  these  three  annuitants, 
are  Bourges,  Chenu,  and  Celoron,  and  they  are  all  three  boni  viri 
optimeque  mihi  noli.  God  grant,  I  pray,  that  no  misfortune  may 
happen  to  them."  Whether  the  kind  prayer  of  Patin  was  heard, 
we  are  not  told. 

That  such  things  should  occur  in  a  country  governed  as  France 
was  is  quite  natural.  Richelieu  brooked  not  even  the  shadow  of 
opposition ;  and  Louis,  submissive  slave  though  he  was  to  an  im- 
perious minister,  had  all  the  brutal  pride  of  an  Oriental  despot. 
In  two  instances  (out  of  many  which  might  be  quoted),  the  one 
not  long  before,  and  the  other  shortly  after,  this  period,  the  mo- 
narch, to  whom  parasites  prostituted  the  title  of  "the  just,"  did 
not  scruple  to  treat  with  contumelious  insolence  the  parliament  of 
Paris,  a  body  of  magistrates  eminent  for  their  learning  and  other 
qualities.  On  the  first  occasion,  having  taken  offence  at  a  request 
which  they  made,  he  told  them  that,  «« in  future,  whenever  he 
came  to  them,  he  should  expect  to  be  received  outside  the  door  of 
their  hall  by  four  presidents  on  their  knees,  as  the  custom  had  for- 
merly been."  The  second  time,  when,  with  respect  to  the  Duke 
de  Valette's  trial,  the  president  Bellievre,  in  decorous  but  dignified 
language,  remonstrated  with  Louis  on  his  gross  violation  of  justice 
and  proper  feeling,  in  wishing  the  judges  to  sit  in  his  own  palace, 
while  he  was  present  to  overawe  them,  he  furiously  replied,  that 
he  detested  all  those  who  opposed  his  trying  a  duke  and  peer 


160  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

wherever  he  pleased.  They  were,  he  told  them,  ignorant  beings, 
unfit  for  their  office,  and  he  did  not  know  whether  he  should  not 
put  others  in  their  place.  "  I  will  he  obeyed,"  said  he  ;  "  and  I 
will  soon  make  you  see  plainly  that  all  privileges  are  founded  only 
on  a  bad  custom,  and  that  I  will  not  hear  them  talked  about  any 
more."  But  from  this — which,  however,  can  scarcely  be  called 
a  digression — let  us  return  to  his  captives  in  the  Bastile. 

During  a  part  of  the  time  that  De  Jars  was  in  the  Bastile,  there 
was  within  its  walls  a  prisoner  equally  as  brave,  and  of  as  honour- 
able a  character  as  himself.  This -was  Adrien  de  Montluc,  Count 
de  Cramail,  bora  in  1568,  a  grandson  of  that  intrepid  but  cruel 
Montluc,  whose  commentaries  were  called  by  Henry  IV.  the  Sol- 
dier's Bible.  In  the  second  of  Regnier's  satires,  which  is  ad- 
dressed to  Cramail,  the  poet  winds  up  an  animated  panegyric  on 
him,  by  declaring  that  he  proves  **  virtue  not  to  be  dead  in  all 
courtiers."  There  was  more  truth  in  this  than  is  always  to  be 
found  in  the  eulogies  lavished  by  a  poet.  It  appears,  from  various 
authorities, that  he  shone  in  conversation,  was  well-informed,  and 
was  an  honourable,  benevolent,  and  judicious  man.  As  a  mili- 
tary officer  he  earned  reputation  in  various  battles.  His  conduct 
at  the  combat  of  Veillane,  in  1630,  where  Montmorenci  utterly 
defeated  a  force  five  times  as  numerous  as  his  own,  called  forth  a 
complimentary  letter  from  Cardinal  Richelieu.  **  Fewer  lines 
than  you  have  received  blows,"  says  his  eminence,  "  will  suffice 
to  testify  my  joy  that  the  enemy  has  cut  out  more  work  for  your 
tailor  than  your  surgeon.  I  pray  to  God  that,  after  such  rencoun- 
ters, you  may  always  have  more  to  spend  for  clothes  than  plas- 
ters ;  and  that,  for  the  advantage  of  the  king's  service,  and  the 
glory  of  those  who  have  acquired  so  much  on  this  occasion,  others 
of  the  same  kind  may  often  occur;  among  which  there  will,  I 
hope,  be  some  that  will  enable  me  to  convince  you  that  I  am, 
&c.  &c." 

The  manner  in  which  Richelieu  proved  his  friendship  for  Cra- 
mail was  by  sending  him  to  the  Bastile.  It  has  been  stated  that 
Cramail  was  put  into  confinement  shortly  after  the  Day  of  the 
Dupes,  and  his  attachment  to  the  Prince  of  Conde  was  the  cause 
of  it.  This,  however,  appears  to  be  a  mistake.  Cramail  was 
undoubtedly  serving  under  Louis  XIII.  in  Lorraine  as  late  as  1635, 
at  the  period  when  the  French  arms  were  under  a  temporary 
eclipse ;  and  we  learn  from  Laporte  and  other  writers,  that,  be- 
lieving the  king's  person  to  be  in  jeopardy,  the  count  advised  him 
to  return  to  Paris.  For  this  advice,  reasonable  as  it  was,  he  was 
incarcerated  by  Richelieu.  His  imprisonment  did  not  terminate 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  161 

till  after  the  death  of  the  cardinal.  He  did  not  long  survive  his 
persecutor ;  his  health  was  broken  by  captivity  and  harsh  treat- 
ment, and  he  died  in  1646.  Cramail  was  the  author  of  three 
works — "  LaComedie  des  Proverbes  ;"  "Les  Jeux  de  PInconnu;" 
and  "  Les  Pensees  du  Solitaire." 

Among  the  cotemporaries  of  Bassompierre,  de  Jars,  and  Cramail, 
within  the  walls  of  the  Bastile,  there  was  another  of  equal  rank, 
but  not  of  an  equally  noble  mind.  His  hands  were  stained  with 
blood;  his  earliest  promotion  was  bought  by  perpetrating  a  cow- 
ardly murder.  This  personage  was  Nicholas  de  1' Hospital,  Mar- 
quis of  Vitry,  to  whom  I  have  slightly  alluded  in  my  notice  of  the 
Marchioness  d'Ancre.  He  was  the  degenerate  son  of  a  warrior, 
who  was  incapable  of  a  dishonourable  action.  Vitry,  who  was 
born  in  1611,  succeeded  his  father  as  captain  of  the  royal  guards, 
and  ingratiated  himself  with  Luynes,  the  minion  of  Louis  XIII. 
In  concert  with  Luynes,  he  formed  the  plan  of  assassinating  mar- 
shal d'Ancre,  who  was  obnoxious  to  the  king.  Eager  to  win  the 
marshal's  staff  which  was  held  by  Concini,  Vitry  let  slip  no  op- 
portunity of  irritating  the  king  against  the  intended  victim,  and 
of  .pressing  for  permission  to  assassinate  him.  The  monarch 
hesitated  for  a  while,  not  from  virtue  but  from  fear;  he  ended  by 
granting  his  sanction,  and  Vitry  lost  not  a  moment  in  acting  upon 
it.  With  his  brother  du  Hallier,  and  an  associate  named  Perray, 
he  waited  for  Concini  at  the  entrance  of  the  Louvre,  and  there 
the  three  confederates  dispatched  him  with  pistols,  which  they 
had  kept  concealed  beneath  their  cloaks.  When  Louis  was  in- 
formed that  the  deed  was  done,  he  had  the  ineffable  baseness  to 
look  out  at  the  palace  window,  and  exclaim,  "Many  thanks  to 
you,  Vitry  !  I  am  now  really  king!"  It  must,  however,  be  owned 
that  the  baseness  of  the  monarch  was  kept  in  countenance  by  that 
of  his  courtiers  and  flatterers,  who  lauded  the  assassin  as  profusely 
as  though  he  had  been  the  saviour  of  the  state. 

For  this  disgraceful  service,  Vitry  was  rewarded  by  the  great 
object  of  his  ambition,  the  rank  of  marshal.  On  hearing  of  this, 
the  Duke  of  Bouillon  indignantly  declared  that  he  blushed  at 
being  a  French  marshal,  now  that  the  marshal's  staff  was  made 
the  recompense  of  one  who  traded  in  murder. 

Though,  of  the  two  favourites  of  the  queen-mother,  Vitry  had 
slain  the  husband  with  his  own  hand,  and  thus  been  the  cause  of 
the  wife's  public  execution,  and  though  at  that  time  he  had  treated 
her  with  disgusting  insolence,  yet  when,  two  years  afterwards,  a 
feigned  reconcilement  took  place  between  Mary  of  Medicis  and 
her  son,  she  allowed  Vitry  to  be  presented  to  her.  On  this  occa- 


162  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


sion  a  scene  of  dissimulation  occurred,  which  has  not  often  been 
paralleled.  Vitry  bent  to  kiss  the  hem  of  her  garment,  but  she 
graciously  stretched  out  her  hand  to  raise  him,  saying,  at  the 
same  time,'  "  I  have  always  praised  your  affectionate  zeal  in  the 
king's  service."  To  which,  with  equal  sincerity,  he  replied,  "it 
was  that  consideration  alone  which  induced  me  to  do  all  that  the 
king  desired;  without,  however,  my  having  had  the  slightest  idea 
of  offending  your  majesty."  If  we  cannot  praise  the  parts  which 
these  actors  played,  we  must  at  least  admit  that  they  played  them 
skilfully. 

The  military  career  of  Vitry  did  not  begin  till  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war  between  the  Protestants  and  Catholics,  in  1621. 
Though  he  was  deficient  in  principle,  he  was  not  so  in  courage  ; 
in  the  course  of  the  war  he  distinguished  himself  upon  many 
occasions,  particularly  in  the  isle  of  Rhe  and  at  the  blockade  of 
Rochelle.  He  obtained  the  government  of  Provence  in  1631, 
and  he  held  it  for  six  years.  At  the  expiration  of  that  period,  he 
was  arrested,  and  sent  to  the  Bastile.  His  having  caned  an  arch- 
bishop, and  misused  his  authority  in  various  cases,  were  among 
the  causes  of  his  imprisonment.  Richelieu  said  of  him  that, 
"  though  his  courage  and  fidelity  rendered  him  worthy  to  govern 
Provence,  yet  it  was  necessary  to  deprive  him  of  office,  because, 
being  of  a  naughty  and  insolent  disposition,  he  was  not  fit  to  rule 
a  people  so  jealous  as  the  Provencals  were  of  their  franchises  and 
privileges." 

Vitry  spent  six  years  in  the  Bastile,  from  which  prison  he 
was  not  released  till  after  the  death  of  Cardinal  Richelieu.  During 
the  latter  part  of  his  imprisonment  he  participated  in  intrigues, 
which  would  have  brought  him  to  the  block  had  they  been  dis- 
covered. In  conjunction  with  Bassompierre,  Cramail,  and  others, 
he  entered  into  the  plot  of  which  the  gallant  Count  de  Soissons 
was  the  head.  The  state  prisoners  in  the  Bastile  were,  at  that 
period,  allowed  so  much  freedom  of  intercourse,  both  with  their 
friends  and  among  themselves,  that  they  had  plenty  of  opportu- 
nity to  conspire.  It  was  arranged  between  Vitry,  Bassompierre, 
and  their  associates,  that,  as  soon  as  Soissons  had  gained  a  vic- 
tory, they  should  seize  the  Bastile,  and  the  Arsenal,  and  call  the 
citizens  of  Paris  to  arms.  De  Retz  is  of  opinion  that  the  success 
of  their  scheme  would  have  been  certain ;  but  the  death  of  Sois- 
sons, who  fell  in  the  battle  of  Marfee  at  the  moment  of  his  victory, 
prevented  the  conspirators  from  carrying  their  design  into  effect. 
Fortunately  for  those  who  were  concerned,  their  secret  practices 
were  never  disclosed  while  Cardinal  Richelieu  was  alive. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  163 

Vitry  was  created  a  duke  in  1644,  but  he  died  in  a  few  months 
after  he  obtained  this  title.  He  left  a  son,  possessed  of  talent  far 
superior  to  his  own,  and  who  in  character  more  resembled  his 
grandfather  than  his  father. 

The  Count  de  la  Chatre,  in  his  Memoirs,  relates  a  circumstance 
respecting  the  liberation  of  Vitry  and  his  fellow-prisoners.  The 
anecdote  shows  among  other  things,  to  what  an  extent  Louis  XIII. 
was  infected  with  what  Byron  calls  the  "  good  old  gentlemanly 
vice"  of  avarice.  "  The  cardinal  (Mazarin)  and  M.  de  Chavig- 
ny,"  says  la  Chatre,  "  solicited  the  king  for  the  deliverance  of  the 
marshals,  Vitry  and  Bassompierre,  and  the  Count  de  Crarnail. 
The  means  which  they  employed  on  this  occasion  deserve  to  be 
recorded,  as  being  rather  pleasant ;  for,  finding  that  the  king  was 
not  very  willing  to  comply,  they  attacked  him  on  his  weak  side, 
and  represented  to  him  that  these  three  prisoners  cost  him  an 
enormous  sum  to  keep  them  in  the  Bastile,  and  that,  as  they  were 
no  longer  able  to  raise  cabals  in  the  kingdom,  they  might  as  well 
be  at  home,  where  they  would  cost  him  nothing.  This  indirect 
mode  succeeded,  the  prince  being  possessed  by  such  extraordinary 
avarice,  that  whoever  asked  him  for  money  was  an  insufferable 
burden  to  him  ;  so  far  did  he  carry  this,  that,  after  the  return  of 
Treville,  Beaupuy,  and  others,  whom  the  violence  of  the  late 
cardinal  (Richelieu)  had,  when  he  was  dying  forced  him  to  aban- 
don, he  sought  occasion  to  give  a  rebuff  to  each  of  them,  that  he 
might  prevent  them  from  hoping  to  be  rewarded  for  what  they 
had  suffered  for  him."  Here  we  see  a  king  beginning  his  reign 
by  prompting  his  servants  to  commit  murder,  and  ending  it  by 
displaying  cold-blooded  ingratitude  to  those  who  had  been  faithful 
to  him — fit  end  for  such  a  beginning ! 

From  a  noble,  who  stained  his  hands  with  blood,  to  win  the 
favour  of  a  king,  we  gladly  turn  to  a  plebeian,  who  risked  his  life, 
rather  than  violate  his  fidelity  to  the  neglected  and  ill-used  consort 
of  that  monarch.  Peter  de  la  Porte  was  this  plebeian,  who,  though 
his  trials  were  not  carried  to  such  a  dreadful  extent  as  those  of 
the  Chevalier  de  Jars,  has  a  legitimate  claim,  as  far  as  regards  pro- 
bity and  firmness  of  mind,  to  be  placed  in  the  same  class  with 
that  distinguished  character.  La  Porte  was  born  in  1603,  and 
entered  into  the  service  of  Anne  of  Austria  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
as  one  of  her  cloak-bearers.  It  being  suspected  that  he  was 
trusted  by  the  queen,  he  was  deprived  of  his  office  in  1626,  when 
a  desperate  attempt  was  made  by  the  minister  to  implicate  her  in 
the  conspiracy  of  La  Chalais.  He  then  entered  into  her  body 


164  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

guards.  In  1631,  he  was,  however,  allowed  to  resume  his  former 
situation. 

Ever  studying  to  abase  the  queen,  Richelieu  believed  that  he 
had  at  last  found  an  opportunity  to  accomplish  his  purpose  effec- 
tually. This  was  in  1637.*  That  the  queen  should  privately 
keep  up  some  correspondence  with  the  King  of  Spain  and  the 
cardinal  infant,  who  were  her  brothers,  and  also  with  the  persons 
whom  she  valued  in  the  courts  of  Madrid  and  Brussels,  was 
natural,  more  especially  in  her  discomfortable  situation,  slighted 
as  she  was  by  her  husband,  and  thwarted  and  misrepresented  by 
the  minister  and  the  minister's  satellites,  But  Anne  of  Austria 
had  a  sincere  attachment  to  France,  and  there  is  no  reason  to 
believe  that  her  letters  contained  anything  which  could  prejudice 
her  adopted  country.  Yet,  it  was  not  advisable  that  they  should 
come  into  the  hands  of  a  man,  who  boasted  that  with  only  two 
lines  of  an  innocent  person's  writing  he  could  ruin  him — a  boast 
which  could  be  made  by  no  one  that  was  not  dead  to  honour  and 
shame.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  to  provide  a  safe  place,  where 
the  correspondence  might  be  deposited.  The  queen's  favourite 
convent  of  Val  de  Grace,  of  which  she  was  the  foundress,  was  the 
place  which  she  chose.  There  Anne  had  an  elegant  apartment, 
or  oratory,  in  which,  after  her  devotions  were  over,  she  could 
sometimes,  free  from  the  constraint  and  heartlessness  of  the  court, 
enjoy  a  few  hours  of  social  intercourse  with  the  inmates  of  the 
convent.  One  of  the  nuns  received  the  letters  from  Spain  and 
the  Netherlands,  and  placed  them  in  a  closet,  whence  they  were 
taken  by  the  queen,  whose  answers  were  forwarded  in  the  same 
manner. 

Richelieu,  who  had  spies  in  all  quarters,  discovered  the  secret 
of  the  correspondence  which  was  carried  on  through  the  Val  de 
Grace.  He  lost  not  a  moment  in  filling  the  mind  of  the  weak 
Louis  with  phantoms  of  danger,  which  was  to  arise  from  the 
queen's  unauthorized  communications  with  her  relatives.  The 
queen  was  hurried  off  by  her  husband  to  Chantilly,  where  she 
was  confined  to  her  own  room,  scantily  attended,  and  was  obliged 

*  It  has  been  conjectured,  by  some  writers,  that  Richelieu  was  stimulated  to 
this  new  attack  upon  the  queen  by  the  circumstance  of  her  being  pregnant, 
which  induced  him  to  dread  that  her  influence  would  be  greatly  increased,  if  he 
did  not  find  the  means  of  rendering  her  an  object  of  suspicion.  But  the  con- 
jecture is  erroneous,  as  a  comparison  of  dates  will  prove.  The  attack  upon  her 
was  commenced  in  the  summer  of  1637  (La  Porte  was  sent  to  the  Bastile  in 
August),  and  the  queen  was  not  brought  to  bed  till  September  1638,  thirteen 
months  afterwards. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  165 

to  submit  to  being  interrogated  by  the  chancellor.  Such  was  the 
baseness  of  the  courtiers  that,  believing  her  to  be  lost,  not  one  of 
them  would  venture  even  to  look  up  at  her  window.  Her  confi- 
dential servants  were  shut  up  in  various  prisons.  The  chancellor 
himself  visited  Val  de  Grace  to  make  a  rigorous  search  for  papers ; 
but  he  found  nothing.  That  he  failed  in  his  search  is  not  mar- 
velous; for  he  is  believed  to  have  previously  contrived  to  give  the 
queen  notice  of  the  intended  visit.  AH  the  papers  had  conse- 
quently been  removed,  and  placed  under  the  care  of  the  Marchi- 
oness of  Sourdis. 

Foiled  in  this  attempt  to  reach  the  secret,  Richelieu  tried 
whether  it  might  not  be  wrung  from  the  servants  of  the  queen. 
La  Porte,  as  being  supposed  to  possess  a  large  share  of  her  confi- 
dence, was  of  course  most  open  to  suspicion  and  persecution. 
There  had,  besides,  been  found  upon  him  a  letter  from  the  queen 
to  the  Duchess  of  Chevreuse,  who  was  then  in  exile.  In  the 
month  of  August,  1637,  he  was  committed  to  the  Bastile.  Here 
he  was  repeatedly  and  severely  questioned,  but  nothing  to  crimi- 
nate his  royal  mistress  could  be  drawn  from  him.  It  was  in  vain 
that  the  cardinal  himself  employed  threats  and  promises,  to  obtain 
the  information  which  he  so  much  desired.  The  obstinate  fidelity 
of  La  Porte  was  not  to  be  shaken,  even  when  the  commissary 
showed  him  a  paper,  which  he  said  contained  an  order  for  apply- 
ing to  him  the  torture,  and  took  him  to  the  room  that  he  might 
see  the  instruments.  He  was  equally  proof  to  the  fear  of  death. 

In  May,  1638,  it  being  then  certain  that,  after  being  childless 
for  two-and-twenty  years,  Anne  of  Austria  was  in  a  situation  to 
give  an  heir  to  the  throne,  the  liberation  of  La  Porte  was  granted 
to  her.  He  was,  however,  exiled  to  Saumur,  where  he  resided 
till  the  decease  of  Louis  XIII.  When  Anne  became  regent,  she 
recalled  him,  and  gave  him  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  that  he 
might  purchase  the  place  of  principal  valet-de-chambre  to  the 
king.  This  office  he  held  for  several  years.  But  La  Porte  was 
too  honest  to  prosper  in  a  corrupt  court.  Sincerely  attached  to 
the  queen-regent,  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  apprise  her  of  the 
degrading  reports  which  were  spread  on  the  subject  of  her  long 
interviews  with  Mazarin,  and  by  this  candour  he  cooled  her 
friendship  and  gratitude,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  incurred  the 
enmity  of  the  cardinal  himself,  by  communicating  to  her  a  circum- 
stance, relative  to  the  young  king,  which  Mazarin  was  desirous 
of  keeping  concealed.  In  revenge,  Mazarin  deprived  him  of  his 
place,  and  forbade  him  to  appear  at  court.  It  was  not  till  after  the 
death  of  the  cardinal  that  La  Porte  was  again  admitted  to  the 


166  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

king's  presence,  and  from  him  he  met  with  a  kind  reception.  He 
died  in  1680. 

Alchemy,  the  rock  on  which  the  peace  and  fortune  of  numbers 
have  been  wrecked,  was  still  more  fatal  to  Noel  Pigard  Dubois,  a 
restless  and  certainly  unprincipled  adventurer,  whom  it  deprived 
of  liberty  and  life.  He  was  a  native  of  Coulomiers,  adopted  his 
father's  profession,  that  of  a  surgeon,  then  abandoned  it,  and 
voyaged  to  the  Levant,  where  he  spent  four  years.  During  his 
stay  in  the  East,  he  studied  the  occult  sciences.  Returning  to 
Paris,  he  passed  there  four  years  of  an  obscure  and  often  intem- 
perate existence,  associating  chiefly  with  pretenders  to  alchemical 
knowledge.  Caprice,  or  a  sudden  fit  of  devotion,  next  induced 
him  to  enter  a  Capuchin  convent,  but  he  appears  to  have  speedily 
become  tired  of  restraint,  and  accordingly  he. scaled  the  walls  and 
escaped.  At  the  expiration  of  three  years  he  re-embraced  a  mo- 
nastic life,  took  the  vows,  and  was  ordained  a  priest,  in  which 
character  he  was  known  by  the  name  of  Father  Simon.  The 
quicksilver  of  his  disposition  seemed  at  length  to  be  fixed,  for  he 
continued  to  wear  the  monkish  habit  during  ten  years;  but  he 
verified  the  proverb  that  the  cowl  does  not  make  the  monk;  his 
unquiet  spirit  was  again  roused  into  action,  and  he  fled  into  Ger- 
many. There  he  became  a  convert  to  the  doctrines  of  Luther, 
and  once  more  devoted  himself  to  seeking  for  the  philosopher's 
stone. 

Hoping,  perhaps,  that  there  would  be  more  believers,  or  fewer 
rivals,  in  his  own  country  than  in  Germany,  he  retraced  his  steps 
to  Paris.  Probably  he  was  himself  half  dupe,  half  knave,  almost 
believing  that  he  had  really  found  the  great  secret,  but  resolved  at 
all  events  to  turn  his  supposed  skill  to  his  own  advantage.  His 
first  step  was  to  abjure  Protestantism  ;  his  next  was  to  marry  under 
a  fictitious  name.  Rumours  of  his  wonderful  hermetic  discoveries 
were  speedily  bruited  about.  They  procured  him  the  acquaint- 
ance of  an  Abbe  Blondeau,  an  evidently  credulous  man,  who  in- 
troduced him  to  Father  Joseph,  the  favourite  and  confidant  of 
Richelieu,  as  a  person  who  might  be  useful  to  the  state.  For  the 
services  which  Dubois  was  to  render,  it  was  stipulated  that  his 
past  misdeeds  should  be  buried  in  oblivion.  France  was  at  that 
time  groaning  under  a  heavy  load  of  taxation  ;  money  was  raised 
by  the  most  abominable  exactions  ;  and,  consequently,  it  was  but 
just  that  an  individual  who  promised  to  procure  supplies  more 
innocently  than  by  grinding  the  face  of  the  people,  should  be  for- 
given for  offences  which,  though  deserving  of  punishment,  were 
somewhat  less  iniquitous  than  systematic  tyranny  and  extortion. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  167 

It  affords  a  striking  proof  to  what  an  extent  the  delusions  of 
alchemy  prevailed  in  that  age,  that  the  strong-minded  Richelieu 
instantly  grasped  at  the  bubble  which  floated  before  him.  Had 
only  the  weak  Louis  done  so,  there  would  have  been  no  cause  for 
wonder.  But  the  minister  was  full  as  eager  as  his  nominal  sove- 
reign. It  was  arranged  that  Dubois  should  perform  the  "  great 
work"  in  the  presence  of  the  king,  the  queen,  and  a  throng  of 
illustrious  personages.  The  Louvre  was  the  place  at  which  the 
new  and  never-failing  gold  mine  was  to  be  opened. 

When  the  important  day  arrived,  Dubois  adroitly  acted  in  a 
manner  which  was  calculated  to  inspire  confidence.  He  requested 
that  some  one  might  be  charged  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  proceed- 
ings. One  of  his  body  guards,  named  Saint  Amour,  was  chosen 
by  the  king  for  this  purpose.  Musket  balls,  given  by  a  soldier, 
together  with  a  grain  of  the  powder  of  projection,  were  placed  in 
a  crucible,  the  whole  was  covered  with  cinders,  and  the  furnace 
fire  was  soon  raised  to  a  proper  pitch.  The  transmutation  was 
now  declared  by  Dubois  to  be  accomplished,  and  he  requested  that 
Louis  would  himself  blow  off  the  ashes  from  the  precious  contents 
of  the  crucible.  Eager  to  see  the  first  specimen  of  the  boundless 
riches  which  were  about  to  flow  in  upon  him,  the  king  plied  the 
bellows  with  such  violence,  that  the  eyes  of  the  queen  and  many 
of  the  courtiers  were  nearly  blinded  with  the  dust.  At  last  a 
lump  of  gold  emerged  to  view,  and  his  transports  were  boundless. 
He  hugged  Dubois  with  childish  rapture,  ennobled  him,  and  ap- 
pointed him  president  of  the  treasury,  nominated  Blondeau  a  privy 
counselor,  promised  a  cardinal's  hat  to  Father  Joseph,  and  gave 
eight  thousand  livres  to  Saint  Amour.  The  master  of  perennial 
treasures  could  afford  to  be  generous. 

The  experiment  is  said  to  have  been  repeated,  and  with  the 
same  success  as  in  the  first  instance.  Dubois  must  at  least  have 
been  a  clever  knave,  an  adept  in  legerdemain,  to  have  deluded  so 
many  strongly  interested  spectators,  and  that,  too,  in  spite  of  the 
precautions  which  he  had  himself  daringly  recommended,  for  the 
prevention  of -fraud. 

But  there  was  a  rock  on  which  the  luckless  adventurer  was 
doomed  to  split.  Humbler  patrons  .than  he  had  found  might  for 
a  long  while  have  been  satisfied  with  the  scanty  portion  of  gold 
contained  in  the  bottom  of  a  crucible  ;  but  the  desires  of  his  power- 
ful friends  were  of  a  more  greedy  and  impatient  kind,  not  to  be 
fed  with  distant  hopes,  but  demanding  large  and  immediate  frui- 
tion. Richelieu  loudly  called  upon  the  alchemist  to  operate  on 
an  extensive  scale ;  and  he  proved  that  it  was  necessary  to  do  so, 


168  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

by  requiring  that  Dubois  should  furnish  weekly  a  sum  which 
should  not  be  less  than  six  hundred  thousand  livres,  about  25,000/. 
The  startled  Dubois  requested  time  to  make  the  requisite  prepara- 
tions, and  time  was  granted.  In  truth,  as  the  powder  of  projection 
was  believed  to  be  procurable  only  by  a  protracted  and  laborious 
process,  it  was  impossible  not  to  admit  his  claim  for  delay.  The 
marvel  is,  that  he  did  not  avail  himself  of  the  respite,  to  get  be- 
yond the  reach  of  danger.  When  the  day  arrived  which  he  had 
named,  he  was  of  course  compelled  to  own  that  he  was  not  yet 
prepared. 

Suspicion  being  excited,  he  was  imprisoned  at  Vincennes, 
whence  he  was  transferred  to  the  Bastile.  Offended  pride  and 
vanity  and  disappointed  cupidity  are  often  cruel  passions.  To 
punish  Dubois  for  his  sins  against  them,  the  cardinal  appointed  a 
commission  to  try  him ;  but  being  averse  to  coming  forward  in  the 
character  of  a  dupe,  he  ordered  him  to  be  arraigned  on  a  charge 
of  dealing  in  magic.  As  the  wretched  man  obstinately  persisted 
in  denying  his  guilt,  he  was  put  to  the  torture.  To  gain  a  brief 
reprieve  from  his  sufferings,  he  offered  to  realize  the  golden 
dreams  which  he  had  excited.  Faith  was  not  quite  extinct  in  his 
patrons,  and  he  was  allowed  to  make  another  experiment.  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  he  failed.  Being  thus  driven  from  his  last 
hold,  he  avowed  his  imposture,  was  sentenced  to  death,  and  ter- 
minated his  existence  on  the  scaffold,  on  the  23d  of  June,  1637. 

The  battle  of  Thionville,  which  was  fought  in  1639,  and  ter- 
minated in  the  defeat  of  the  French,  and  the  death  of  Feuquieres, 
their  general,  gave  two  prisoners  to  the  Bastile ;  not  foreign  ene- 
mies, or  rebellious  Frenchmen,  but  officers  who  had  combated  for 
their  country — the  Count  de  Grance  and  the  Marquis  de  Praslin. 
At  Thionville,  the  troops  under  their  orders  refused  to  advance, 
and  finally  ran  away.  It  appears,  from  the  testimony  of  Bassom- 
pierre,  that  no  blame  was  attributable  to  the  count  or  the  marquis ; 
they  were  nevertheless  immured  in  the  Bastile,  though  it  does 
not  seem  easy  to  discern  how  the  cowardice  of  soldiers  is  to  be 
cured  by  imprisoning  their  officers.  It  was,  however,  in  a  similar 
kind  of  spirit,  only  somewhat  more  barbarous,  that  in  England, 
more  than  a  century  afterwards,  Admiral  Byng  was  sacrificed 
(murdered  is  the  proper  word) ;  not,  as  Voltaire  sarcastically  ob- 
serves, "to  encourage  the  others,"  but  to  divert  public  indignation 
from  its  proper  objects.  The  system  was  carried  to  a  horrible 
length  in  France,  during  the  Reign  of  Terror.  Less  sanguinary, 
in  this  instance,  than  his  imitators,  Richelieu  contented  himself 
with  inflicting  a  short  deprivation  of  liberty.  The  two  captives 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  169 

were  restored  to  favour,  and  Grance  rose,  in  the  next  reign,  to  the 
rank  of  marshal. 

The  next  two  cases  which  are  on  record,  afford  a  striking  proof 
of  the  contempt  in  which  Richelieu  held  justice  and  the  law  of 
nations,  whenever  they  chanced  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  politi- 
cal schemes,  and  the  gratification  of  his  vindictive  spirit.  On 
the  death  of  the  gallant  warrior,  Bernard  of  Saxe  Weimar,  which 
took  place  in  the  summer  of  1639,  the  possession  of  his  admirably 
trained  army  became  an  object  which  all  the  belligerent  powers 
were  eager  to  obtain.  Among  those  who  sought  the  prize  was 
the  Prince  Palatine,  a  son  of  the  unfortunate  Frederic,  who  lost 
the  crown  of  Bohemia  and  his  own  hereditary  states.  The  prince 
was  passing  through  France,  from  England,  to  enter  on  the  nego- 
tiation, when  he  was  arrested,  and  sent  to  the  Bastile,  under  pre- 
tence of  his  being  an  unknown  and  suspected  person.  Richelieu, 
meanwhile,  pushed  on  his  treaty  with  the  officers  of  the  deceased 
duke,  and  succeeded  in  purchasing  their  services  for  France. 
When  this  was  accomplished,  it  was  discovered  that  the  arrest  of 
the  Prince  Palatine  was  a  mistake,  and  he  was  consequently  set 
free. 

The  second  case  occurred  in  the  following  year,  1640,  and  was 
a  still  more  flagrant  violation  of  international  laws,  and  more 
fraught  with  circumstances  of  baseness  and  malignity.  Louis  XIII. 
had  a  sister,  Christina,  beautiful,  accomplished,  and  of  winning 
manners ;  in  a  word,  as  worthy  of  being  beloved  as  he  was  the  con- 
trary. This  princess  was  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  who 
left  to  her  the  regency  of  his  states  during  the  minority  of  Ema- 
nuel  Philibert,  his  son.  On  the  decease  of  her  husband,  the  am- 
bition of  his  brothers  prompted  them  to  grasp  at  the  reins  of  gov- 
ernment, and,  to  effect  their  purpose,  they  called  in  the  aid  of 
Spain.  The  duchess  was  sorely  pressed  by  her  enemies.  In  this 
strait,  nature  and  policy  combined  to  make  her  apply  to  Louis  for 
aid.  The  appeals  to  him,  in  her  letters,  are  often  affecting.  Riche- 
lieu was  willing  enough  to  send  succours,  but  he  was  determined 
that  they  should  be  bought  at  an  extravagant  rate.  His  object,  in 
truth,  was  to  place  the  dominions  of  the  minor,  and  even  the  minor 
himself,  at  the  mercy  of  France.  He  not  only  required  that  cer- 
tain fortresses  should  be  delivered  up  to  him,  but  also  that  the 
young  duke  should  be  put  into  the  hands  of  the  French  king,  that 
is  to  say,  into  his  own.  To  bring  this  about,  he  descended  to  the 
most  unworthy  intrigues  and  double  dealing ;  alternately  calum- 
niating the  duchess  to  her  brothers-in-law,  and  them  to  her,  in 
order  to  render  impossible  an  accommodation  between  them. 


170  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Borne  down  by  necessity,  the  duchess  at  length  consented  to 
admit  French  garrisons  into  some  of  her  fortresses,  but  she  reso- 
lutely persisted  in  refusing  to  surrender  her  son. 

The  firmness  of  the  duchess  was  sustained  by  Count  Philip 
d'Aglie,  one  of  her  principal  ministers,  a  man  of  discernment  and 
talent,  who  never  slackened  in  his  hostility  to  the  scheme  of 
Richelieu.  He  feared  that  the  visit  of  the  young  duke  to  France 
would  resemble  the  descent  into  Avernus — "  Sedrevocare  gradum, 
hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est"  The  cardinal  had  hoped  that,  in  an  in- 
terview which  the  duchess  had  with  Louis  at  Grenoble, she  might 
be  cajoled  or  terrified  into  compliance.  But  on  that  occasion  her 
own  firmness  was  backed  by  the  presence  of  Count  d'Aglie,  and 
the  expectations  of  the  ungodly  churchman  were  in  consequence 
frustrated.  So  irritated  was  he  by  his  disappointment,  that  he 
proposed,  in  council,  to  arrest  the  count ;  but,  powerful  and  feared 
as  he  was,  he  could  not  prevail  upon  the  members  to  assent  to  this 
measure.  It  was,  therefore,  postponed  to  a  better  opportunity.  In 
the  meanwhile,  calumny  was  set  at  work  to  blacken  the  character 
of  the  devoted  individual,  that,  when  the  happy  time  arrived  for 
pouncing  upon  him,  he  might  excite  no  sympathy.  That  the 
slander  would  wound  the  duchess  also  was  a  matter  of  little  con- 
cern to  the  personage  by  whom  it  was  propagated.  It  was  roundly 
asserted,  apparently  without  the  shadow  of  a  reason  for  it,  that  an 
illicit  intercourse  subsisted  between  the  duchess  and  the  minister, 
the  latter  of  whom  the  cardinal,  with  an  affectation  of  virtuous 
anger,  was  pleased  to  designate  as  "  the  wretch  who  was  ruining 
the  reputation  of  Christina."  It  was  not  till  the  following  year 
that  he  could  succeed  in  wreaking  his  malice  on  the  count.  As 
soon  as  the  French  troops  had  recovered  Turin  from  the  Spaniards, 
Richelieu  ordered  d'Aglie  to  be  seized ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  re- 
monstrances of  the  duchess  against  this  gross  violation  of  her 
sovereignty,  he  was  hurried  into  France,  and  confined  in  the  Bas- 
tile.  The  date  of  the  count's  deliverance  I  am  unable  to  ascer- 
tain, but  it  is  probable  that  his  imprisonment  was  not  protracted 
beyond  the  life  of  the  cardinal. 

It  appears  to  have  been  about  this  time  that  there  was  published 
a  bitter  satire  upon  the  cardinal,  for  which  an  unlucky  author, 
who  had  no  concern  with  it,  was  conveyed  to  the  Bastile.  The 
satire  bore  the  title  of  "The  Milliad,"  from  its  consisting  of  a 
thousand  lines.  One  edition  is  entitled,  "  The  Present  Govern- 
ment, or  the  Eulogy  of  the  Cardinal."  It  was  attributed  to 
Charles  de  Beys,  a  now-forgotten  author,  who  wrote  three  plays 
and  some  verses,  and  was  lauded  as  a  rival  of  Malherbe,  by  a  few 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  171 

of  his  ill-judging  cotemporaries.  It  must  have  been  some  mis- 
chievous joker  that  ascribed  "  The  Milliad"  to  him,  for  Beys  was 
not  the  sort  of  man  to  meddle  with  political  satire,  especially  on 
such  a  dangerous  subject;  he  was  of  an  indolent,  convivial  dispo- 
sition, and  spent  the  largest  portion  of  his  time  in  enjoying  the 
pleasures  of  the  table.  He  was,  nevertheless,  pent  up  in  the  Bas- 
tile  as  the  libeler  of  the  all-potent  cardinal.  Fortunately  for  him, 
he  was  able  to  prove  his  innocence,  was  set  at  liberty,  and  con- 
tinued to  follow  his  former  course  of  life,  till  his  constitution  gave 
way,  and  he  died,  in  1659,  at  the  age  of  forty. 

In  the  winter  of  1642,  Richelieu,  who  had  so  largely  fed  the 
prisons  and  scaffolds  of  France,  terminated  his  career  of  ambition 
and  blood.  There  is  extant  a  letter  which,  while  the  cardinal  was 
on  his  death  bed,  was  written  to  him  by  one  of  his  victims,  named 
Dussault.  The  letter  bears  date  on  the  first  day  of  December, 
three  days  previous  to  the  decease  of  the  minister,  and  it  seems 
never  to  have  reached  him.  What  was  the  offence  of  Dussault 
is  not  known;  from  a  broad  hint  which  is  given  in  his  epistle,  it 
appears  that  he  suffered  for  having  refused  to  execute  some  san- 
guinary order  given  to  him  by  Richelieu.  When  he  penned  the 
following  lines  he  had  been  more  than  eleven  years  an  inmate  of 
the  Bastile. 

"  My  Lord, — There  is  a  time  when  man  ceases  to  be  barbarous 
and  unjust;  it  is  when  his  approaching  dissolution  compels  him 
to  descend  into  the  gloom  of  his  conscience,  and  to  deplore  the 
cares,  griefs,  pains,  and  misfortunes,  which  he  has  caused  to  his 
fellow-creatures :  allow  me  to  say  fellow-creatures,  for  you  must 
now  see  that  of  which  you  would  never  before  allow  yourself  to 
be  convinced,  or  persuade  yourself  to  know,  that  the  sovereign  and 
excellent  celestial  Workman  has  formed  us  all  on  the  same  model, 
and  that  he  designed  men  to  be  distinguished  from  each  other  by 
their  virtues  alone.  Now,  then,  my  lord,  you  are  aware  that  for 
eleven  years  you  have  subjected  me  to  sufferings,  and  to  enduring 
a  thousand  deaths  in  the  Bastile,  where  the  most  disloyal  and 
wicked  subject  of  the  king  would  be  still  worthy  of  pity  and  com- 
passion. How  much  more,  then,  ought  they  to  be  shown  to  me, 
whom  you  have  doomed  to  rot  there,  for  having  disobeyed  your 
order,  which,  had  I  performed  it,  would  have  condemned  my  soul 
to  eternal  torment,  and  made  me  pass  into  eternity  with  blood- 
stained hands.  Ah !  if  you  could  but  hear  the  sobs,  the  lamenta- 
tions and  groans,  which  you  extort  from  me,  you  would  quickly 
set  me  at  liberty.  In  the  name  of  the  eternal  God,  who  will  judge 
you  as  well  as  me,  I  implore  you,  my  lord,  to  take  pity  on  my 


172  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

sufferings  and  bewailings  ;  and,  if  you  wish  that  He  should  show 
mercy  to  you,  order  my  chains  to  be  broken  before  your  death 
hour  comes,  for,  when  that  comes,  you  will  no  longer  be  at  leisure 
to  do  me  that  justice  which  I  must  require  only  from  you,  and  you 
will  persecute  me  even  after  you  are  no  more,  from  which  God 
keep  us,  if  you  will  permit  yourself  to  be  moved  by  the  most 
humble  prayer  of  a  man  who  has  ever  been  a  loyal  subject  to  the 
king." 

This  application  was  made  in  vain.  If  the  cardinal  ever  saw 
it,  which  is  doubtful,  it  failed  to  penetrate  his  iron  heart ;  he  "  died, 
and  made  no  sign"  in  favour  of  the  wretched  supplicant.  From 
Dussault's  evident  despair  of  ever  being  freed  except  by  Riche- 
lieu, it  may  be  conjectured  that,  as  an  agent  of  the  minister,  he 
had  given  inexpiable  offence  to  some  one  on  whom  power  was  now 
likely  to  devolve ;  and  this  supposition  is  rendered  more  probable 
by  his  captivity  having  been  subsequently  protracted  to  an  extra- 
ordinary length.  It  was  not  till  the  20th  of  June,  1692,  that  he 
was  dismissed,  after  having  languished  in  the  Bastile  for  sixty- 
one  years  !  At  his  advanced  age,— for  he  must  at  least  have  been 
between  eighty  and  ninety, — he  could  scarcely  have  deemed  the 
boon  of  liberty  a  blessing.  In  the  common  course  of  nature,  all 
his  kindred  and  friends  must  have  been  gone,  and  as  his  habits 
were  wholly  unfitted  for  the  turmoil  of  the  world,  and  he  was, 
perhaps,  exposed  to  want,  it  is  not  unnatural  to  conclude  that  he 
may  have  been  a  solitary  and  starving  wanderer  for  the  brief  re- 
mainder of  his  existence.  A  situation  more  forlorn  than  this  it 
would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  173 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Reign  of  Louis  XIV. — Regency  of  Anne  of  Austria. — Inauspicious  circumstances 
under  which  she  assumed  the  Regency. — George  de  Casselny. — The  Count  de 
Montresor. — The  Marquis  de  Fontrailles. — Marshal  de  Rantzau. — The  Count 
de  Rieux. — Bernard  Guyard. — Brossel,  governor  of  the  Bastile. — The  Duchess 
of  Montpensier  orders  the  cannon  of  the  Bastile  to  be  fired  on  the  king's  army. 
— Conclusion  of  the  war  of  the  Fronde. — Surrender  of  the  Bastile. — Despotism 
of  Louis  XIV.— Slavishnesss  of  the  nobles.— John  Herauld  Gourville. — The 
Count  de  Guiche. — Nicholas  Fouquet. — Paul  Pellisson-Fontainier. — Charles 
St.  Evremond. — Simon  Morin. — The  Marquis  de  Vardes. — Count  Bussy  Ra- 
butin.— Saci  le  Maistre. — The  Duke  of  Lauzun. — Marquis  of  Cavoie. — The 
Chevalier  de  Rohan. — A  nameless  prisoner. — CharlesD'Assoucy. —  Miscella- 
neous prisoners. 

THE  regency  of  Anne  of  Austria  commenced  under  auspices 
which  were  not  of  the  most  favourable  kind.  For  a  long  series 
of  years  she  had  been  persecuted  by  a  tyrant  minister,  and  dis- 
credited and  humiliated,  in  every  possible  manner,  by  an  unfeeling 
husband.  It  would  be  a  tedious  task  to  enumerate  all  the  slights 
and  injuries  to  which  she  was  exposed;  a  specimen  may  suffice. 
To  avoid  the  disgrace  of  being  sent  back  to  Spain,  she  had  been 
compelled  to  confess  before  the  Council  a  fault  which  she  every- 
where else  disavowed,  and  of  which  it  is  improbable  that  she  was 
guilty;  on  her  bringing  Louis  XIV.  into  the  world,  she  had  suf- 
fered a  stinging  insult  from  her  consort,  who  had  pertinaciously 
refused  to  give  her  the  embrace  which  was  customary  on  such 
occasions — an  insult  which  affected  her  so  deeply  that  her  life  was 
endangered ;  when  he  was  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  she 
earnestly  sought  to  remove  his  prejudices  against  her,  he  coldly 
replied  to  Chavigni,  who  was  pleading  her  cause,  "In  my  situa- 
tion I  must  forgive,  but  I  am  not  obliged  to  believe  her;"  and,  in 
settling  the  regency,  he  would  fain  have  excluded  from  it  the 
object  of  his  hatred,  but,  that  being  impracticable,  he  took  care  to 
shackle  her  authority  in  such  a  way  as  would  have  left  her  scarcely 
more  than  the  mere  title  of  regent.  Her  having  been  childless 
for  twenty-two  years,  and  been  treated  in  childbed  with  such 
marked  aversion  by  him,  were  also  circumstances  which  were  well 
calculated  to  throw  dangerous  doubts  on  the  legitimacy  of  the 
infant  sovereign.  Yet  Anne  of  Austria  triumphed  over  all  this, 
procured  the  setting  aside  of  her  deceased  husband's  arrangements, 
obtained  unlimited  power,  and  for  five  years  governed  France  with- 


174  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

out  opposition,  and  with  a  considerable  enhancement  of  its  military 
fame.  It  was  not  till  the  troubles  of  the  Fronde  broke  out  that 
she  encountered  unpopularity  and  resistance. 

During  the  peaceable  period  of  the  queen-mother's  government, 
the  Bastile  seems  to  have  had  but  few  inmates,  at  least  few  whom 
history  has  deemed  worthy  of  being  recorded ;  and  during  the 
war  of  the  Fronde,  and  even  before,  the  castle  of  Vincennes  was 
the  prison  which  received  the  captives  of  the  highest  class,  such 
as  the  Duke  of  Beaufort,  the  Prince  of  Conde,  and  Cardinal  de 
Retz. 

The  first  prisoner  in  the  Bastile,  of  whom  any  notice  occurs 
during  the  regency,  was  a  Spanish  agent,  named  George  de  Cas- 
selny.  Philip  IV.  of  Spain  had  recently  lost  his  consort  Eliza- 
beth, and  it  appears  that  Casselny  was  commissioned  to  make 
overtures  for  the  monarch's  marriage  with  that  singular  female 
the  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  a  woman  who  had  more  manly  quali- 
ties than  her  vacillating  father,  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  "  There 
was  a  certain  Spaniard,  named  George  de  Casselny  (says  the 
duchess  in  her  memoirs),  who  had  been  made  prisoner  in  Cata- 
lonia, and  was  on  his  parole;  he  went  to  M.  de  Surgis,  at  Orleans, 
to  request  that  he  would  procure  for  him  an  interview  with  Mon- 
sieur (the  Duke  of  Orleans)  who  put  him  off  till  he  could  see  him 
at  Paris.  In  consequence  of  this  delay,  the  Spaniard's  intention 
got  wind,  and  he  was  put  into  the  Bastile,  and  the  cardinal  (Ma- 
zarin),  told  Monsieur  that  it  was  a  man  who  wanted  to  divert  him 
from  the  service  of  the  king  by  this  proposal  of  marriage  ;  which 
Monsieur  believed  and  still  believes.  Many  persons,  however, 
affirm,  that  it  was  not  a  pretext,  and  that  this  gentleman  had 
orders  to  make  solid  and  sincere  propositions  for  the  marriage  of 
his  king  with  me,  which  he  had  thought  it  proper  to  communicate 
to  Monsieur,  before  he  made  them  known  to  the  court.  Neverthe- 
less, this  poor  creature  was  kept  a  prisoner  for  several  years,  and 
when  he  was  set  at  liberty,  he  was  sent  out  of  the  kingdom  under 
a  guard." 

The  next  prisoner  was  one  who,  for  a  long  period,  was  closely 
connected  with  Monsieur,  the  father  of  the  duchess.  Claude  de 
Bourdeille,  Count  de  Montresor,  was  born  about  1608,  and  was  a 
grand-nephew  of  that  pleasant  but  unscrupulous  writer,  Brantome, 
who  bequeathed  to  him  his  mansion  of  Richemont.  Montresor 
was  early  admitted  into  the  train  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  at 
length  became  his  confidential  friend,  whom  he  consulted  on  all 
occasions.  He  availed  himself  of  his  influence  to  keep  at  a  dis- 
tance from  the  duke  all  the  friends  of  Richelieu,  to  incite  him  still 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  175 

more  against  that  minister,  and  to  link  him  in  confederacy  with  the 
Count  of  Soissons.  In  1636  he  went  much  farther.  In  conjunc- 
tion with  Saint  Ibal  and  others,  he  formed  a  plan  for  assassinating 
the  cardinal,  and  to  this  plan  the  duke  and  the  count  gave  their 
assent.  The  murder  was  to  be  perpetrated  as  the  minister  was 
leaving  the  council  chamber ;  Saint  Ibal  was  behind  him,  ready  to 
strike  the  blow,  and  waited  only  for  an  affirmative  sign  from  the 
duke ;  but  at  this  critical  moment,  either  the  courage  of  Orleans 
gave  way,  or  his  conscience  smote  him,  for  he  turned  away  his 
head,  and  hurried  from  the  spot.  The  cardinal  consequently  es- 
caped. 

While  Montresor  was  subsequently  busy  in  Guyenne,  labour- 
ing to  induce  the  Duke  of  Epernon  and  his  son  to  take  up  arms 
for  Monsieur,  he  was  suddenly  abandoned  by  his  employer,  who 
made  his  own  peace  with  Richelieu.  Montresor  now  retired  to 
his  estate,  where,  for  more  than  five  years,  he  lived  in  the  utmost 
privacy.  He  had,  however,  secret  interviews  with  Monsieur, 
and,  at  his  solicitation,  he  engaged  in  the  conspiracy  of  Cinq  Mars. 
Again  he  was  deserted  by  him,  and  more  disgracefully  than  in 
the  first  instance;  for  the  dishonourable  prince  did  not  scruple  to 
disavow  the  proceedings  of  his  agent,  and  to  aver  that  Cinq  Mars 
and  ^Montresor  were  the  persons  who  had  misled  him.  Montresor 
would  have  ascended  the  scaffold  with  Cinq  Mars  and  de  Thou, 
had  he  not  prudently  taken  refuge  in  England,  whence  he  did 
not  return  till  the  cardinal  was  no  more. 

When  the  government  devolved  on  Anne  of  Austria,  the  ene- 
mies of  Richelieu  had  reason  to  hope  that  they  would  become  the 
dominant  party.  The  haughty  bearing  which  this  hope  led  them 
to  assume,  obtained  for  them  the  appellation  of  "The  Cabal  of  the 
Importants."  They  soon,  however,  contrived  to  disgust  the  queen- 
regent;  and  before  twelvemonths  had  elapsed,  Montresor,  Cha- 
teauneuf,  the  Duchess  of  Chevreuse,  and  several  others  of  the 
faction,  were  ordered  to  quit  the  court.  Montresor  retired  for  a 
while  to  Holland.  Late  in  1645,  he  visited  Paris,  and,  soon  after, 
two  letters  to  him,  from  the  exiled  Duchess  de  Chevreuse,  having 
been  intercepted,  Mazarin  sent  him  to  the  Bastile.  The  prisoner 
was  removed  to  Vincennes,  where  he  was  rigorously  treated  for 
fourteen  months.  At  length,  moved  by  the  solicitations  of  Mon- 
tresor's  relatives,  the  cardinal  set  him  at  liberty,  and  even  offered 
him  his  friendship.  Montresor,  however,  chose  rather  to  league 
himself  with  Mazarin's  bitterest  foe,  the  celebrated  Coadjutor, 
afterwards  the  Cardinal  de  Retz,  and  he  took  an  active  part  in  the 
war  of  the  Fronde.  In  1653  he  was  reconciled  to  the  court,  and 


176  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


from  that  time  till  his  decease,  which  occurred  in  1663,  he  led  a 
peaceable  life.  Though  ambition  and  a  propensity  to  political 
intrigue  could  lead  him  to  dip  his  hands  in  blood,  Montresor  is 
said  to  have  had  many  social  qualities;  to  have  been  generous, 
sincere,  and  a  firm  and  ardent  friend.  His  "Memoirs"  form  a 
valuable  contribution  to  the  history  of  his  times. 

Among  the  agents  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  was  Louis  d' Astarac, 
Marquis  of  Fontrailles,  a  descendant  from  an  ancient  Armagnac 
family.  When  the  conspiracy  of  Cinq  Mars  was  formed,  Fon- 
trailles  was  dispatched  to  Spain,  to  negotiate  with  the  Spanish 
cabinet  a  treaty,  for  assistance  to  the  conspirators.  By  this  treaty, 
Spain  engaged  to  furnish  the  Duke  of  Orleans  with  12,000  in- 
fantry, 5000  cavalry,  400,000  crowns  to  raise  levies  in  France ; 
and  a  monthly  allowance  of  12,000  crowns  for  his  private  ex- 
penses. But,  before  any  step  could  be  taken  to  carry  the  treaty 
into  effect,  the  conspiracy  was  rendered  abortive.  Fontrailles, 
against  whom  an  order  of  arrest  had  been  issued,  was  fortunate 
enough  to  escape  to  England.  The  death  of  the  cardinal  and  of 
his  vassal  sovereign,  which  took  place  soon  after,  enabled  the  pro- 
scribed fugitive  to  return  to  France.  He  became  one  of  the  Cabal 
of  the  Importants,  and  shared  in  the  downfall  of  that  faction.  In 
the  summer  of  1647,  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile;  for  what  fault 
he  was  imprisoned  I  know  not,  or  when  he  was  released.  Guy 
Patin  intimates  that  the  charge  was  not  of  a  capital  nature.  Fon- 
trailles died  in  1677. 

The  next  who  passes  before  us  is  a  brave  and  injured  soldier. 
Count  Josias  de  Rantzau  was  descended  from  an  ancient  family 
of  Holstein,  thirty-two  members  of  which  are  said  to  have  greatly 
distinguished  themselves.  The  fidelity  of  this  family  to  its  sove- 
reigns was  so  remarkable,  that  the  expression,  "As  faithful  as  a 
Rantzau  to  his  king,"  passed  into  a  proverb.  Josias  was  bom  in 
1610,  and  seems  first  to  have  borne  arms  in  the  Swedish  service; 
he  commanded  a  body  of  Swedes  at  the  siege  of  Andernach, 
headed  the  Swedish  left  wing  at  the  combat  of  Pakenau,  and  was 
present  at  the  siege  of  Brisac.  In  1635,  he  accompanied  the 
celebrated  Oxenstiern  into  France,  where  Louis  XIII.  appointed 
him  a  major-general,  and  colonel  of  two  regiments.  The  subse- 
quent career  of  Rantzau  was  often  successful,  and  was  never 
stained  with  disgrace.  He  effectually  covered  the  retreat  of  the 
French  after  the  raising  of  the  siege  of  Dole,  victoriously  de- 
fended St.  Jean  de  Lone  against  Galas,  bore  a  conspicuous  part 
in  the  subsequent  campaigns  in  Flanders  and  Germany,  and  was 
twice  maimed  at  the  siege  of  Arras,  and  displayed  signal  valour 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  177 

at  the  siege  of  A  ire.  Fortune  deserted  him  at  the  combat  of 
Honnecourt  and  the  battle  of  Dutlingen,  in  1642  and  1643,  and 
in  both  instances  he  was  taken  prisoner.  She,  however,  soon 
became  favourable  to  him.  Between  1645  and  1649  he  made 
himself  master  of  Gravelines,  Dixmude,  Lens,  and  all  the  mari- 
time towns  of  Flanders.  To  reward  his  services  he  received  the 
government  of  Gravelines  and  Dunkirk,  and  was  raised  to  the 
rank  of  marshal.  Mazarin,  nevertheless,  suspected  him  of  being 
connected  with  his  enemies,  and  in  February,  1649,  the  marshal 
was  conveyed  to  the  Bastile,  where  he  remained  for  eleven  months. 
His  innocence  being  at  length  ascertained,  he  was  set  at  liberty ; 
but  a  dropsy,  which  he  had  contracted  in  his  confinement,  proved 
fatal  to  him  in  the  course  of  a  few  months.  He  died  in  Septem- 
ber, 1650.  Rantzau  was  possessed  of  brilliant  valour,  much  talent 
and  military  skill,  and  spoke  all  the  principal  languages  of  Europe ; 
his  only  defect  was  an  inordinate  love  of  wine.  Like  our  Nelson, 
but  even  in  a  greater  degree,  his  person  had  been  severely  muti- 
lated ;  he  had  lost  an  ear,  an  eye,  a  leg,  and  an  arm.  To  this  fact 
the  following  epitaph  alludes  : 

"  But  half  of  great  Rantzau  this  tomb  contains, 
The  other  half  in  battle  fields  remains ; 
His  limbs  and  fame  he  widely  spread  around, 
And  still,  though  mangled,  conqueror  was  he  found  : 
His  blood  a  hundred  victories  did  acquire, 
And  nothing  but  his  heart  by  Mars  was  left  entire  !" 

A  brawl  brought  to  the  Bastile,  in  1652,  the  Count  de  Rieux, 
a  son  of  the  Duke  of  Elboeuf.  A  dispute  with  the  Prince  of 
Tarentum,  as  to  precedence,  gave  rise  to  it.  The  Prince  of 
Conde,  the  great  Conde,  was  the  other  actor.  "The  Prince  of 
Conde,"  says  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  "took  the  part  of  the 
Prince  of  Tarentum,  who  is  nearly  related  to  him,  against  the 
Count  de  Rieux,  and  one  day  he  got  heated  in  the  dispute ;  he 
imagined  that  the  Count  de  Rieux  had  pushed  him,  which  obliged 
him  to  return  it  by  a  box  on  the  ear ;  the  Count  de  Rieux  then 
gave  him  a  blow.  The  prince,  who  had  no  sword,  made  a  dart 
at  that  of  the  Baron  de  Migenne,  who  was  present.  M.  de  Rohan, 
who  was  also  there,  put  himself  between  them,  and  got  out  the 
Count  de  Rieux,  whom  his  royal  highness  (the  Duke  of  Orleans) 
sent  to  the  Bastile,  for  having  dared  to  fail  in  respect.  Many 
persons  say,  that  the  prince  struck  first ;  if  he  did  so,  he  must 
have  taken  some  gesture  of  the  count  for  an  insult,  for  though  he 
is  very  passionate,  he  is  not  so  much  so  as  to  do  an  action  of  this 
kind.  I  saw  him  after  dinner,  and  he  said, « You  see  a  man  who 
12 


178  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

has  been  beaten  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.'  The  Count  de 
Rieux  remained  in  the  Bastile  till  the  arrival  of  M.  de  Lorraine, 
who  set  him  free,  and  blamed  him  very  much."  It  must  have 
been  a  ludicrous  sight,  to  see  a  prince  of  the  blood,  the  victor  of 
Rocroi,  Fribourg,  Nordlingen,  and  Lens,  at  fisticuffs  amidst  a  ring 
of  courtiers,  in  the  palace  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans!  "This  was 
not  the  way,"  remarks  Voltaire,  "to  regain  the  hearts  of  the 
Parisians." 

The  leaders  of  the  Frondeur  faction  were  by  no  means  tolerant 
of  censure,  even  when  it  came  from  clerical  lips.  Bernard  Guy- 
ard,  a  Dominican,  had  reason  to  repent  his  having  too  honestly 
indulged  in  it.  Guyard,  who  was  born  in  1601,  at  Craon,  in 
Anjou,  took  the  religious  habit,  and  was  admitted,  in  1645,  a  doc- 
tor of  the  Sorbonne,  and  became  popular  for  his  pulpit  eloquence, 
so  much  so  that  Anne  of  Austria  appointed  him  her  preacher, 
and  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  chose  him  as  her  confessor.  While 
the  war  of  the  Fronde  was  being  carried  on — a  war  of  which  it 
has  wittily  and  truly  been  said,  that  it  ought  to  be  recorded  in 
burlesque  verse — Guyard  ventured  to  reprobate,  in  the  pulpit,  the 
conduct  of  those  ambitious  and  unprincipled  personages  by  whom 
its  flames  had  been  lighted  up.  The  punishment  of  his  offence 
followed  close  upon  the  commission  of  it.  As  he  was  leaving  the 
church,  he  was  arrested,  and  conveyed  to  the  Bastile,  where  he 
continued  for  some  months.  He  died  in  1674,  at  which  period 
he  was  theological  professor  in  the  convent  of  St.  James.  All  his 
works  have  long  since  ceased  to  attract  notice,  with  the  exception, 
perhaps,  of  "The  Fatality  of  St.  Cloud,"  which  is  a  paradoxical 
attempt  to  prove  that  not  Clement,  nor  a  Dominican,  but  a  Leaguer, 
disguised  as  a  monk,  was  the  murderer  of  Henry  III. 

During  the  war  of  the  Fronde,  the  Bastile,  for  a  short  time,  and 
for  the  last,  was  again  a  fortress  as  well  as  a  prison  ;  but  in  the 
latter  character  its  services  were  only  once  required.  When,  in 
1649,  the  queen-regent  suddenly  quitted  Paris  with  the  young 
king,  she  imprudently  neglected  to  throw  into  the  Bastile  a  garri- 
son. It  was  guarded  by  only  twenty-two  soldiers,  who  had  neither 
ammunition  nor.  provisions.  Du  Tremblai,  the  governor,  was 
therefore  obliged  to  yield.  The  custody  of  the  fortress  was 
committed  to  Peter  Broussel,  for  whose  deliverance  the  Parisians 
had  risen  in  arms  on  the  day  of  the  Barricades,  and  from  whom 
he  had  received  the  flattering  appellations  of  the  father  and  the 
protector  of  the  people.  As  Broussel  was  an  aged  man,  his  son, 
La  Louviere,  was  joined  with  him  in  the  government.  In  1652, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  179 

Broussel  was  appointed  provost  of  the  merchants,  and  the  keeping 
of  the  Bastile  remained  with  La  Louviefe  alone. 

The  two  pieces  of  cannon  which,  in  1649,  the  Parisians  fired 
at  the  Bastile  to  hasten  its  submission,  would  have  been  the  only 
artillery  employed,  either  against  it  or  by  it,  had  not  the  daring 
of  a  woman  brought  its  guns  into  action.  The  Duchess  of  Mont- 
pensier,  who  was  called  Mademoiselle,  had  recently  distinguished 
herself  by  her  spirited  conduct  at  Orleans.  Being  sent  by  her 
father  to  that  city,  to  encourage  his  partisans,  she  was  at  first 
refused  admittance,  but  she  forced  her  way  in,  through  a  hole  in  a 
gate,  roused  the  people  in  her  favour,  and  succeeded  in  preventing 
the  king's  troops  from  occupying  that  important  post.  She  was 
now  at  Paris,  and  soon  found  a  fresh  opportunity  to  display  her 
courage  and  presence  of  mind.  On  the  second  of  July,  1652, 
the  sanguinary  battle  of  the  suburb  of  St.  Anthony  was  raging ; 
the  army  of  the  Prince  of  Conde,  overborne  by  the  far  superior  num- 
bers which  Turenne  led  against  him,  could  barely  hold  its  ground ; 
the  prince  had  in  vain  entreated  for  its  admission  at  various  gates ; 
the  enemy,  reinforced,  was  preparing  for  a  new  attack  on  its  front 
and  flanks ;  and,  pent  in  between  the  king's  troops  and  the  city 
walls,  its  destruction  seemed  to  be  inevitable.  At  this  perilous 
moment  it  was  saved  by  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier.  First  from 
her  father,  and  next  from  the  municipal  authorities  sitting  at  the 
Town  Hall,  she  in  a  manner  extorted  an  order  for  opening  the 
gate  of  St.  Anthony  to  the  nearly  overwhelmed  battalions  of 
Conde.  She  then  ascended  to  the  summit  of  the  Bastile,  and 
directed  the  cannon  to  be  charged,  removed  from  the  city  side, 
and  pointed  to  the  opposite  quarter.  They  were  opened  upon 
the  royalists,  who  pressed  on  the  retreating  Condeans,  and  their 
commanding  fire  compelled  the  pursuers  to  fall  back  beyond  their 
range.  Mademoiselle  was  at  that  time  cherishing  a  hope  that  she 
should  be  united  to  her  cousin  the  king,  or  at  least  to  some  crowned 
head ;  and  it  was  with  allusion  to  this  circumstance  that,  when 
he  heard  she  had  ordered  the  firing,  Mazarin  coolly  remarked, 
"Those  cannon-shots  have  killed  her  husband." 

Four  months  did  not  pass  away  before,  tired  of  wasting  their 
lives  and  properties  in  a  contest  which  could  benefit  only  the  pri- 
vileged classes,  the  Parisians  invited  the  king  to  return  to  his 
capital.  The  monarch  entered  it  on  the  21st  of  October,  1652. 
The  faction  of  the  Fronde  was  annihilated,  and  its  leaders  were 
scattered  in  all  directions;  their  vanity,  selfishness,  and  utter 
want  of  principle  and  patriotism,  deserved  such  a  fate.  Had 
they  been  animated  by  noble  motives,  had  they  possessed  even  a 


180  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

moderate  share  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  they  might  have  laid  the 
groundwork  of  a  stable  and  beneficent  government,  and  thereby 
saved  their  country  from  innumerable  immediate  and  remote  evils. 
But 

"The  sensual  and  the  base  rebel  in  vain, 
Slaves  by  their  own  compulsion  !" 

As  soon  as  the  king  had  entered  Paris,  the  BastiJe  was  sum- 
moned, and  La  Louviere  was  informed  that,  if  he  were  rash 
enough  to  stand  a  siege,  the  gibbet  would  be  his  portion.  Too 
prudent  to  run  so  useless  and  formidable  a  risk,  he  readily  gave 
up  his  charge.  From  the  moment  when  Mademoiselle  directed 
its  fire  upon  the  king's  troops,  a  hundred  and  thirty-seven  years 
elapsed  before  the  Bastile  again  heard  the  roar  of  artillery  fired 
in  anger. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  Louis  XIV.  was  to  hold  a  bed  of  jus- 
tice, in  which  he  ordered  the  registration  of  an  edict  to  abridge 
the  power  of  the  parliament.  By  this  edict,  the  parliament  was 
strictly  prohibited  from  deliberating  on  state  and  financial  affairs, 
and  instituting  any  proceedings  whatever  against  the  ministers 
whom  he  might  be  pleased  to  employ.  Louis  was  then  only  a 
boy  of  fourteen,  and  this  act  was  of  course  the  work  of  Mazarin ; 
but,  young  as  he  was,  the  monarch  was  already  thoroughly  im- 
bued with  the  principles  on  which  it  was  framed.  Three  years 
afterwards  he  gave  a  striking  proof  of  this.  The  parliament  hav- 
ing ventured  to  manifest  a  faint  opposition  to  some  of  his  many 
oppressive  fiscal  edicts,  he  took  a  step  which  showed  how  deeply 
despotism  was  ingrained  into  his  character.  He  was  engaged  in 
the  chase,  at  Vincennes,  when  information  was  brought  to  him 
that  his  will  was  disputed.  Hurrying  back  to  Paris,  he  entered 
the  parliament  chamber,  the  sanctuary  of  justice,  booted,  spurred, 
whip  in  hand,  and  thus  addressed  the  assembly  of  venerable 
magistrates  :  "  Sirs,  everybody  knows  the  .  calamities  which  the 
meetings  of  the  parliament  have  produced.  I  will  henceforth 
prevent  those  meetings.  I  order  you,  therefore,  to  desist  from 
those  which  you  have  begun,  with  respect  to  the  edicts  which,  in 
my  late  bed  of  justice,  I  directed  to  be  registered.  You,  Mr. 
First  President,  I  forbid  to  allow  of  these  assemblies  ;  and  I  for- 
bid every  one  of  you  to  demand  them."  Having  thus  spoken  he 
departed,  leaving  his  hearers  in  astonishment.  He  was  then  a 
beardless  youth,  who  had  not  reached  his  seventeenth  year.  The 
members  of  the  parliament  might  well  have  called  to  mind  the 
words  of  Scripture — "  If  these  things  are  done  in  the  green  tree, 
what  will  be  done  in  a  dry?"  Six  years  afterwards  Mazarin  died, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  181 


and  thenceforth  Louis  had  no  prime  minister;  he  became,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  the  head  of  the  government,  the  autocrat  of 
France. 

A  new  era,  that  of  abject  submission  to  the  monarch,  and  al- 
most idolatrous  worship  of  his  person  and  greatness,  commenced 
when  the  war  of  the  Fronde  was  over.  The  slaves  had  had  their 
Saturnalia,  and  they  sank  back — we  may  almost  say  rushed  back 
— into  a  slavery  more  degrading  than  that  from  which  they  had 
for  a  moment  emerged.  There  were  no  longer  any  Epernons, 
ruling  their  provinces  as  they  pleased,  and  bearding  the  sovereign  ; 
the  feudal  pride  was  extinct.  This  would  have  been  a  happy 
circumstance  for  France,  had  the  nobles,  in  losing  their  pride, 
preserved  their  dignity.  But  from  one  extreme  they  passed  to 
the  other.  The  power  which  they  had  lost,  which  was,  in  fact, 
but  the  power  of  doing  mischief,  they  might  have  replaced  by  a 
power  more  honourable  and  durable,  that  which  would  have  arisen 
from  promoting  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  those  whom  they 
called  their  vassals.  But  their  extensive  domains  were  looked  on 
only  as  mines,  from  which  the  last  grain  of  gold  was  to  be  ex- 
tracted, that  they  might  squander  it  in  the  capital.  It  seemed  as 
though  it  were  impossible  for  them  to  exist  out  of  the  king's  pre- 
sence ;  and  when  they  were  excluded  from  it,  they  lamented  and 
whined  in  a  manner  which  excites  at  once  wonder  and  contempt. 
The  consequences  of  this  general  prostration  were  slowly,  but 
surely  and  fatally,  unfolded. 

Let  us  revert  to  the  captives  of  the  Bastile.  The  destiny  of 
John  Herauld  Gourville,  who  was  born  in  1625,  was  a  singular 
one ;  he  not  only  raised  himself  from  a  humble  state  to  be  the 
companion  and  friend  of  princes,  but  was  appointed  to  be  one  of 
the  representatives  of  his  sovereign  while  in  exile,  and  while  a 
Parisian  court  of  justice  was  hanging  him  in  effigy  as  a  convicted 
runaway  peculator.  After  having  received  a  scanty  education, 
he  was  placed  in  an  attorney's  office  by  his  widowed  mother. 
Having  by  his  cleverness  fortunately  attracted  the  notice  of  the 
Duke  de  la  Rochefoucault,  the  author  of  the  "Maxims,"  that  no- 
bleman made  him  his  secretary.  During  the  war  of  the  Fronde, 
Gourville  displayed  such  talent  and  activity,  that  he  acquired  the 
warm  friendship  of  his  employer  and  the  Prince  of  Conde.  His 
gratitude  engaged  him  in  many  desperate  adventures  for  their 
service,  and  the  mode  in  which  he  raised  the  supplies  for  them 
was  sometimes  not  much  unlike  that  of  a  bandit ;  the  moral  code 
of  the  Frondeurs  was  not  remarkable  for  its  strictness.  When 
Rochefoucault  became  weary  of  the  inglorious  contest  in  which 


182  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

he  was  an  actor,  Gourville  negotiated  the  duke's  peace  with  the 
court;  and  in  doing  this  he  manifested  so  much  ability  and  pru- 
dence, that  Mazarin  dispatched  him  to  Bordeaux,  to  treat  with  the 
Prince  of  Conti.  In  this  mission  he  was  successful;  and  he  was 
rewarded  by  being  appointed  commissary-general  of  the  French 
army  in  Catalonia.  At  the  close  of  the  campaign  of  1655,  he 
returned  to  Paris,  and  Mazarin,  who  suspected  that  he  came  to 
intrigue  for  the  Prince  of  Conti,  shut  him  up  in  the  Bastile.  In 
his  Memoirs,  Gourville  candidly  confesses  that  his  six  months' 
imprisonment  was  insufferably  wearisome,  and  that  he  could  think 
of  little  else  than  how  he  should  put  an  end  to  it.  He  was  ma- 
turing a  plan  of  escape,  in  concert  with  six  other  prisoners,  when 
the  cardinal  relented,  took  him  again  into  favour,  and  even  pre- 
vailed on  Fouquet  to  give  him  the  lucrative  place  of  receiver- 
general  of  the  province  of  Guienne.  In  this  office  Gourville 
amassed  an  immense  fortune,  wrhich  he  increased  by  his  extraor- 
dinary good  luck  at  play.  When  Fouquet  fell,  the  whole  of  his 
subalterns  were  involved  in  his  fall;  but,  far  from  deserting  him 
in  his  calamity,  Gourville  nobly  furnished  100,000  livres  to  assist 
in  gaining  over  some  of  his  enemies,  and  a  still  larger  sum  for 
the  establishment  of  his  son,  the  Count  de  Vaux.  He  soon,  how- 
ever, became  himself  an  object  of  impeachment,  on  a  charge  of 
peculation,  and  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  quit  France.  At  that 
moment  there  was  certainly  no  chance  of  his  obtaining  a  fair  trial. 
After  having  visited  England  and  Holland,  he  settled  at  Brussels. 
Though  he  was  compelled  to  live  in  a  foreign  country,  Gourville 
still  preserved  a  strong  affection  for  his  native  land,  and  he  proved 
it,  by  influencing  the  Princes  of  Brunswick  and  Hanover  in  favour 
of  France.  For  this  patriotic  conduct  Louis  XIV.  nominated  him 
his  plenipotentiary  at  the  court  of  Brunswick ;  while  at  the  same 
moment  his  enemies  at  Paris  obtained  against  him  a  degrading 
sentence  from  his  judges  !  That  not  a  love  of  justice,  but  a  desire 
to  extort  money  from  him,  gave  rise  to  his  being  prosecuted,  is 
made  evident  by  Colbert  having  offered  a  pardon,  at  the  price  of 
800,000  livres,  which  he  afterwards  reduced  to  600,000.  Gour- 
ville, however,  either  could  not  or  would  not  purchase  this  costly 
commodity.  He  was  subsequently  employed  as  a  diplomatist  in 
Spain,  and  again  in  Germany;  and  at  length  in  1681,  a  free 
pardon  was  granted  to  him.  From  that  time  he  led  a  tranquil 
life  in  the  French  capital,  in  habits  of  friendship  with,  and  much 
beloved  by,  the  most  eminent  men  of  genius  and  rank.  At  one 
period  there  was  an  intention  of  making  him  the  successor  of  Col- 
bert, as  comptroller-general  of  the  finances,  an  office  for  which  he 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  183 

was  well  qualified;  but  he  had  ceased  to  be  ambitious  of  danger- 
ous honours,  and  was  happy  to  avoid  them.  The  length  of  time 
which  his  servants  continued  in  his  service,  and  the  cordial  man- 
ner in  which  he  speaks  of  them,  afford  strong  proofs  of  his  kind- 
heartedness  ;  never  did  a  selfish  or  harsh  master  long  retain  a 
domestic.  Haughtiness  to  inferiors  is  the  miserable  make-shift  of 
a  man  who  has  no  true  dignity  to  support  his  pretensions.  Gour- 
ville  mentions  four  persons  who  had  been  with  him  for  fifteen, 
seventeen,  twenty-five,  and  thirty-two  years.  He  died  in  1703, 
at  the  age  of  seventy-eight.  His  Memoirs,  which  he  composed 
in  four  months,  to  amuse  himself  while  he  was  confined  by  a  dis- 
ease in  the  leg,  are  deservedly  prais.ed  by  Madame  de  Sevigne 
and  Voltaire. 

The  next  who  appears  on  the  scene  was  a  noble,  whom  Madame 
de  Sevigne  characterizes  as  "a  hero  of  romance,  who  does  not 
resemble  the  rest  of  mankind."  This  is  somewhat  exaggerated, 
but  not  wholly  untrue.  Armand  de  Grammont,  Count  de  Guiche, 
who  was  born  in  1638,  was  a  proficient  in  all  manly  exercises, 
splendid  in  dress  and  equipage,  spirited,  witty,  well  educated, 
handsome  in  person,  and  cultivated  in  mind.  His  valour  was 
early  proved,  at  the  sieges  of  Landrecy,  Valenciennes,  and  Dun- 
kirk. In  a  voluptuous  court,  and  with  his  attractive  qualities,  it 
is  not  wonderful  that  Guiche  was  engaged  in  amorous  intrigues. 
His  desire  of  conquest  aimed  so  high — Henrietta  Stuart,  Duchess 
of  Orleans,  was  its  great  object — that  Louis  XIV.  thrice  exiled 
him;  and  it  was  probably  on  this  account  that  he  became  an  in- 
mate of  theBastile,  from  which  prison  he  was  released  in  the  autumn 
of  1660.  Having  a  third  time  offended,  he  was  sent  to  Poland, 
where  he  distinguished  himself  in  the  war  against  the  Turks.  At 
the  end  of  two  years,  he  was  recalled:  but  it  was  not  long  before 
he  again  fell  into  disgrace,  by  participating  in  the  despicable  con- 
duct of  the  Marquis  de  Vardes,  which  will  be  described  in  the 
sketch  of  that  courtier's  career.  Guiche  was  banished  to  Holland. 
Too  active  to  remain  unemployed,  he  served  in  the  campaign 
against  the  Bishop  of  Munster,  and  on  board  the  Dutch  Squadron, 
in  the  sea-fight  with  the  English,  off  the  Texel.  He  was  allowed 
to  return  to  France  in  1669,  but  was  not  re-admitted  at  court  till 
two  years  afterwards.  It  was  he  who,  in  1672,  led  the  way  at 
the  celebrated  passage  of  the  Rhine,  near  Tollhuis ;  an  exploit 
which  is  extravagantly  lauded  by  Boileau.  He  died  at  Creutz- 
nach,  in  Germany,  in  1673;  excessive  chagrin,  occasioned  by 
Montecuculi  having  defeated  him,  was  the  cause  of  his  death. 


184  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Quiche  is  the  author  of  a  volume  of  Memoirs  concerning  the 
United  Provinces. 

The  first  important  act  of  Louis  XIV.,  after  his  taking  the 
administration  of  public  affairs  into  his  own  hands,  was  the  dis- 
gracing and  ruining  Fouquet,  the  superintendent  of  the  finances. 
Nicholas  Fouquet,  a  son  of  Viscount  de  Vaux,  was  born  at  Paris, 
in  1615,  and  was  educated  for  the  legal  profession.  At  twenty 
he  was  master  of  requests,  and  at  thirty-five  he  filled  the  very 
considerable  office  of  attorney-general  to  the  parliament  of  Paris. 
It  would  have  been  happy  for  him  had  he  steadily  pursued  his 
career  in  the  magistracy,  instead  of  deviating  into  a  path  that  was 
beset  with  dangers.  During  the  troubles  of  the  Fronde  he  was  un- 
alterably faithful  to  the  queen-mother,  and  in  gratitude  for  this  she 
raised  him,  in  1653,  to  the  post  of  superintendent.  It  was  a  fatal 
boon. 

By  all  who  were  connected  with  it,  the  French  treasury  seems, 
in  those  days,  to  have  been  considered  as  a  mine  which  they  were 
privileged  to  work  for  their  own  benefit.  Mazarin  had  recently 
been  a  wholesale  plunderer  of  it ;  and  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  Fouquet  was  a  peculator  to  a  vast  extent.  Yet  the  superintend- 
ent had  one  merit,  which  was  wanting  in  other  depredators — 
though  he  took,  he  likewise  gave ;  for  at  one  period,  when  money 
ran  short,  he  mortgaged  his  property  and  his  wife's,  and  borrowed 
on  his  own  bills,  to  supply  the  necessities  of  the  state. 

The  fatal  failing  of  Fouquet  was  his  magnificent  extravagance. 
He  had  a  taste  for  splendour  and  lavish  expenditure,  which  might 
have  qualified  him  for  an  oriental  sovereign.  On  his  estate  at 
Vaux  he  built  a  mansion,  or  rather  a  palace,  which  threw  into  the 
shade  the  country  residences  of  the  French  monarch — for  Ver- 
sailles was  not  then  in  existence.  Whole  hamlets  were  leveled 
to  the  ground  to  afford  space  for  its  gardens.  The  building  was 
sumptuously  decorated,  and  in  every  part  of  it  was  painted  his 
device,  a  squirrel,  with  the  ambitious  motto  "Quo  non  ascendam?" 
Whither  shall  I  not  rise?  It  is  a  curious  circumstance,  that  the 
squirrel  was  represented  as  being  pursued  by  a  snake,  which  was 
the  arms  of  Colbert,  the  bitter  enemy  of  Fouquet.  The  edifice 
cost  eighteen  millions  of  livres;  a  sum  equivalent  to  three  times 
as  much  at  the  present  day. 

The  largesses  of  the  superintendent,  which  in  many  cases  de- 
serve the  name  of  bribes,  were  immense.  Great  numbers  of  the 
courtiers  did  not  blush  to  become  his  pensioners.  On  extraordi- 
nary occasions  they  also  received  presents  from  him.  Each  of 
the  nobles,  who  was  invited  with  Louis  XIV.  to  the  grand  enter- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  185 

tainment  at  Vaux,  found  in  his  bed-chamber  a  purse  filled  with 
gold ;  which,  says  a  sarcastic  writer,  "the  nobles  did  not  forget  to 
take  away."  There  was  another  abundant  source  of  expense, 
which  arose  out  of  his  licentious  passions ;  he  lavished  immense 
sums  in  purchasing  the  venal  charms  of  the  French  ladies  of 
distinction,  and  was  eminently  successful  in  finding  sellers. 
"There  were  few  at  court,"  says  Madame  de  Motteville,  "who 
did  not  sacrifice  to  the  golden  calf."  Policy,  no  doubt,  had  a 
share  in  prompting  his  liberality  to  the  courtiers ;  and,  perhaps, 
it  sometimes  was  mingled  with  lust  and  vanity  in  his  gifts  to  frail 
females  of  rank ;  but  we  may  attribute  to  a  purer  motive  the  kind- 
ness and  courtesy  which  he  manifested  to  persons  of  talent.  The 
result  was  quite  natural ;  the  great  deserted  him  in  his  hour  of 
danger  and  disgrace,  the  people  of  talent  clung  with  more  tenacity 
than  ever  to  their  fallen  benefactor  and  friend. 

Mazarin,  when  on  his  death-bed,  is  said  to  have  awakened  the 
fears  and  suspicions  of  Louis  against  Fouquet;  and,  to  deepen 
the  impression  which  he  had  made,  he  left  behind  him  two  deadly 
foes  of  the  superintendent.  These  foes  were  Le  Tellier  and  Col- 
bert, of  whom  the  latter  was  the  most  inveterate  and  the  most 
dangerous.  When  Louis  formed  the  resolution  of  being  his  own 
prime  minister,  Fouquet,  who  evidently  wished  to  succeed  to  the 
power  of  Richelieu  and  Mazarin,  essayed  to  turn  the  monarch 
from  his  purpose,  by  daily  heaping  on  him  a  mass  of  dry,  intri- 
cate, and  erroneous  financial  statements.  He  failed  in  his  attempt. 
These  papers  the  king  every  evening  examined,  with  the  secret 
assistance  of  Colbert,  whose  acuteness  and  practiced  skill  instantly 
unraveled  their  artful  tangles,  and  exposed  their  errors. 

It  was  not  the  squandering  of  the  royal  treasure  alone  that  irri- 
tated Louis ;  though  that  would  have  been  a  sufficiently  exciting 
cause  to  a  man  whose  own  lavish  habits  required  large  supplies. 
He  asserted,  and  might  perhaps  believe,  that  the  offender  aspired 
to  sovereignty.  In  a  long  conversation  with  the  president  La- 
moignon,  he  said,  "Fouquet  wished  to  make  himself  Duke  of 
Brittany,  and  king  of  the  neighbouring  isles;  he  won  over  every 
body  by  his  profusion ;  there  was  not  a  single  soul  in  whom  I 
could  put  confidence."  So  much  was  he  impressed  with  this 
idea,  that  he  repeated  it  over  and  over  to  the  president.  For  this 
absurd  fear  there  was  no  other  ground  than  that  the  superintendent 
had  purchased  and  fortified  Belleisle;  a  measure  which  was 
prompted  by  patriotic  motives,  it  being  his  design  to  make  that 
island  an  emporium  of  commerce.  There  is  said  to  have  been 
another  and  a  not  less  powerful  cause  for  the  monarch's  hatred  of 


186  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


Fouquet ;  the  superintendent  had  been  imprudent  enough  to 
attempt  to  include  La  Valliere  in  the  long  catalogue  of  his  mis- 
tresses, and  this  was  an  offence  not  to  be  pardoned  by  the  proudest 
and  vainest  of  kings. 

As  soon  as  the  ruin  of  Fouquet  was  determined  upon,  the  most 
profound  dissimulation  was  used  by  the  king  and  Colbert  to  pre- 
vent him  from  suspecting  their  purpose.  All  his  measures  seemed 
to  give  perfect  satisfaction ;  unlimited  trust  was  apparently  placed 
in  him  ;  and  hints  were  thrown  out  that  the  coveted  post  of  prime 
minister  was  within  his  reach.  The  hints  had  a  further  purpose 
than  that  of  blinding  him  to  the  peril  in  which  he  stood ;  they 
were  meant  to  rob  him  of  a  shield  against  injustice.  By  virtue  of 
his  office,  as  attorney-general  to  the  parliament,  he  had  the  privi- 
lege of  being  tried  only  by  the  assembled  chambers ;  but,  as  it  was 
intended  that  his  trial  should  take  place  before  a  packed  tribunal, 
it  was  necessary  to  divest  him  of  the  privilege.  For  this  reason 
it  was  insinuated  that  the  post  of  attorney-general  stood  in  the  way 
of  his  being  raised  to  the  premiership,  and  also  of  his  obtaining 
the  blue  ribbon.  Fouquet  fell  into  the  snare,  and  sold  his  office 
for  1,400,000  livres,  which  sum,  with  a  blind  generosity,  he  in- 
stantly lent  to  the  Exchequer.  To  confirm  Fouquet's  delusion, 
Louis  graced  with  his  presence  a  gorgeous  festival  which  was 
held  at  Vaux.  But  the  splendour  of  the  place,  the  excessive  mag- 
nificence of  the  entertainment,  and  the  presumptuousness  of  the 
superintendent's  motto,  roused  his  anger  to  such  a  pitch,  that,  had 
not  the  queen-mother  remonstrated,  he  would  have  committed  the 
unkingly  act  of  arresting  Fouquet  on  the  spot. 

When  the  courage,  inspired  by  passion,  had  evaporated,  Louis 
delayed  yet  awhile  to  effect  his  purpose,  till  he  had  guarded  in  all 
possible  ways  against  the  danger  which  was  to  be  apprehended 
from  the  formidable  conspirator.  Had  Fouquet  been  capable  of 
calling  up  legions  from  the  earth  by  the  stamp  of  his  foot,  more 
precautions  could  not  have  been  taken.  The  blow  was  struck  at 
last.  Louis  was  at  Nantes,  to  which  city  he  had  removed  under 
the  idea  that  it  would  be  easier  to  accomplish  the  arrest  there  than 
at  Paris.  Thither  he  was  followed  by  Fouquet.  Some  of  the 
superintendent's  friends  warned  him  of  the  peril  which  hung  over 
him,  but  he  gave  no  credence  to  their  tidings.  On  the  5th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1661,  as  he  was  leaving  the  council,  he  was  arrested,  and 
was  conveyed  without  delay  to  the  castle  of  Angers.  Messengers 
were  immediately  dispatched  to  Paris  to  seize  his  papers,  and  to 
order  the  arrest  of  many  of  his  partisans. 

Fouquet  was  bandied  about  from  prison  to  prison,  from  Angers 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  187 

to  Amboise,  Moret,  and  Vincennes,  till  he  was  finally  lodged  in 
the  Bastile.  He  bore  his  misfortune  with  an  unshaken  mind. 
His  enemies,  meanwhile,  were  proceeding  with  the  most  malig- 
nant activity,  and  with  a  perfect  contempt  of  justice  and  decorum. 
It  was  the  common  talk  of  Paris,  that  Colbert  would  be  satisfied 
with  nothing  less  than  the  execution  of  the  superintendent.  He 
was  even  plainly  charged  by  Fouquet  with  having  fraudulently 
made  in  his  papers  a  multitude  of  alterations.  Le  Tellier,  though 
less  openly  violent  than  Colbert,  was  equally  hostile.  For  the 
trial  of  the  prisoner  twenty-two  commissioners  were  picked  out 
from  the  French  parliaments;  nearly  all — if  not  all — of  them  were 
notoriously  inimical  to  him,  or  connected  with  persons  who  were 
known  to  be  so,  and  at  their  head  was  Chancellor  Seguier,  one  of 
his  most  deadly  enemies. 

One  benefit  the  fallen  minister  derived  from  this  injustice,  and 
from  the  protracted  trial  which  ensued ;  public  opinion,  which  at 
first  had  been  adverse  to  him,  gradually  grew  more  and  more 
favourable.  Fouquet  the  peculator,  brought  to  judgment  before 
an  honest  and  impartial  tribunal  would  have  excited  no  sympathy; 
Fouquet,  persecuted  by  his  rivals  for  power,  and  destined  to  be 
legally  assassinated,  could  not  fail  to  excite  a  warm  interest  in  the 
mind  of  every  one  who  was  not  destitute  of  honourable  feelings. 

Those  who  were  in  habits  of  intimacy  with  Fouquet  needed  no 
other  stimulus  than  J;he  benefits  or  the  winning  courtesies,  which 
they  had  experienced  from  him.  He  had  on  his  side  all  who 
loved  or  practiced  literature,  all  who  could  be  captivated  by  pre- 
possessing manners  and  boundless  generosity.  "  Never,"  says 
Voltaire,  "  did  a  placeman  have  more  personal  friends,  never  was 
a  persecuted  man  better  served  in  his  misfortunes."  Many  men 
of  letters  wielded  the  pen  .in  his  behalf  with  a  courage  which  de- 
serves no  small  praise,  when  we  consider  that  the  Bastile  was 
staring  them  in  the  face.  Pelisson  in  his  dungeon  tasked  all  his 
powers  to  defend  his  ruined  master;  La  Fontaine,  in  a  touching 
elegy,  vainly  strove  to  awake  the  clemency  of  Louis  ;  Loret  eulo- 
gized Fouquet  in  his  "  Mercure  Burlesque,"  and  was  punished  by 
the  loss  of  his  pension;  Hesnault,  the  translator  of  Lucretius, 
attacked  Colbert  in  the  bitterest  and  boldest  of  sonnets ;  and  a 
crowd  of  othe*  assailants  showered  epigrams  and  lampoons  on  the 
vindictive  minister.  The  authors  were,  in  general,  lucky  enough 
to  find  impunity :  but  numbers  of  news-writers,  printers,  and 
hawkers,  were  seized,  all  of  whom  were  imprisoned,  and  some 
were  sent  from  prison  to  the  galleys. 

Fouquet  began  by  denying  the  competency  of  the  tribunal  be- 


188  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

fore  which  he  was  summoned.  He  was,  however,  compelled  to 
appear ;  but,  though  he  answered  interrogatories,  he  persisted  in 
protesting  against  the  authority  of  his  judges.  He  defended  him- 
self with  admirable  skill,  eloquence,  and  moderation.  There  were, 
indeed,  moments  when  he  was  roused  to  retaliate.  A  single  ex- 
ample of  the  pungency  with  which  he  could  reply,  will  show  that 
his  persecutors  were  not  wise  in  provoking  him.  Behind  a  mirror, 
at  his  country-house  of  St.  Mande,  was  found  a  sketch  of  a  paper, 
drawn  up  by  him  fifteen  years  before,  and  evidently  long  forgotten 
by  him.  It  contained  instructions  to  his  friends  how  they  were 
to  proceed  in  case  of  an  attempt  being  made  to  subvert  his  'power. 
This  was  construed  into  a  proof  of  conspiracy.  Seguier  having 
pertinaciously  called  on  him  to  own  that  the  drawing  up  of  such 
a  paper  was  a  crime  against  the  state,  Fouquet  said,  '*  I  confess 
that  it  is  a  foolish  and  wild  act,  but  not  a  state  crime.  A  crime 
against  the  state  is  when,  holding  a  principal  office,  and  being  en- 
trusted with  the  secrets  of  the  prince,  the  individual  all  at  once 
deserts  to  the  enemy,  engages  the  whole  of  his  family  in  the  same 
interest,  causes  governors  to  open  the  gates  of  cities  to  the  enemy's 
army,  and  to  close  them  against  their  rightful  master,  and  be- 
trays to  the  hostile  party  the  secrets  of  the  government — this,  sir, 
is  what  is  called  a  crime  against  the  state."  This  was  a  stunning 
blow  to  the  chancellor,  for  it  was  the  past  conduct  of  that  magis- 
trate himself  that  was  thus  forcibly  described  by  the  prisoner. 

The  trial  lasted  three  years.  It  was  not  "the  fault  of  some  of 
his  judges  that  it  was  not  brought  to  a  speedier  issue.  They  lis- 
tened with  reluctance  to  his  eloquent  defence,  and  would  fain 
have  cut  it  short.  Possort,  one  of  them,  who  was  an  uncle  of  Col- 
bert, once  exclaimed,  on  Fouquet  closing  his  speech,  *«  Thank 
Heaven !  he  cannot  complain  that  he  has  been  prevented  from 
talking  his  fill!"  Others,  still  more  insensible  to  shame,  made  a 
motion  that  he  should  be  restricted  to  the  mere  answering  of 
questions;  they  were,  however,  overruled.  It  was  not  till  the 
middle  of  December,  1664,  that  Talon,  the  advocate-general, 
summed  up  the  evidence,  and  demanded  that  the  culprit  should 
be  hanged  on  a  gallows,  purposely  erected  in  the  Palace  Court. 
But  the  time  for  this  excessive  severity  was  gone  by.  Some  of  the 
judges  had  become  accessible  to  feelings  of  pity ;  others  had  been 
won  over  by  the  potent  influence  of  gold,  of  which  the  superin- 
tendent's friends  undoubtedly  availed  themselves  to  a  considerable 
extent.  Among  the  most  conspicuous  of  those  who  leaned  to  the 
side  of  mercy  were  MM.  d'Ormesson  and  Roquesante,  men  of 
unquestionable  integrity.  Only  nine  voted  for  death ;  a  majority 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  189 

of  the  commissioners,  thirteen  in  number,  gave  their  suffrage  for 
confiscation  of  property  and  perpetual  banishment. 

The  king  is  said  to  have  been  grievously  disappointed  by  this 
sentence.  Colbert  was  furious.  In  one  of  her  letters,  written  at 
the  moment,  Madame  de  Sevigne,  who  had  a  warm  esteem  for 
Fouquet,  says,  "  Colbert  is  so  exceedingly  enraged,  that  we  may 
expect  from  him  something  unjust  and  atrocious  enough  to  drive 
us  all  to  despair  again."  In  another  letter  she  hints  her  fears 
that  poison  may  be  employed ;  Guy  Patin  was  also  of  thetfsame 
opinion.  Neither  poison  nor  steel  was,  however,  resorted  to  ;  it 
was  probably  thought  that  to  render  the  life  of  Fouquet  a  burden 
to  him,  would  be  a  more  exquisite  gratification  than  taking  of  it 
away.  To  grant  mercy  has  always  been  regarded  as  the  noblest 
prerogative  of  a  monarch ;  to  refuse  it  was  more  to  the  taste  of 
Louis.  He  altered  the  sentence  of  Fouquet  from  banishment  to 
endless  imprisonment  in  a  remote  fortress,  and  this  was  in  mock- 
ery called  a  commutation  of  the  penalty.  Fouquet  was  imme- 
diately sent  off  to  Pignerol,  and  the  members  of  his  family,  who 
were  doomed  to  suffer  for  his  errors,  were  scattered  in  various 
directions.  His  judges  did  not  wholly  escape  without  marks  of 
the  king's  anger.  M.  de  Roquesante,  a  native  of  the  sunny  Pro- 
vence, who  had  spoken  in  favour  of  the  prisoner,  was  banished, 
in  the  depth  of  winter,  to  the  distant  and  imperfectly  civilized  pro- 
vince of  Lower  Brittany. 

On  his  way  to  Pignerol,  and  during  his  captivity  there,  Fouquet 
was  treated  with  great  harshness.  About  six  months  after  his 
arrival,  he  was  placed  in  imminent  danger.  The  lightning  fell 
on  the  citadel  where  he  was  confined,  and  blew  up  the  powder 
magazine.  Numbers  of  persons  were  buried  under  the  ruins,  but 
he  stood  in  the  recess  of  a  window  and  remained  unhurt.  There 
is  a  singular  veil  of  mystery  hanging  over  his  last  days.  He  is 
generally  said  to  have  died  at  Pignerol,  in  1680;  yet  Gourville, 
his  friend,  positively  states  him  to  have  been  set  at  liberty,  before 
his  decease,  and  he  adds,  that  he  received  a  letter  from  him. 
Voltaire,  too,  declares  that  the  fact  of  the  liberation  was  confirmed 
to  him  by  the  Countess  de  Vaux,  the  daughter-in-law  of  Fouquet; 
but  here  all  clue  to  the  subject  is  lost.  It  has  recently  been  sug- 
gested that  Fouquet  may  have  again  been  arrested,  and  that  he 
was  the  individual  who  is  known  by  the  appellation  of  the  Man 
in  the  Iron  Mask. 

While  fidelity  in  friendship,  inviolably  preserved  under  the 
most  trying  circumstances,  shall  continue  to  be  admired  by  man- 
kind, the  name  of  Paul  Pelisson  will  always  be  mentioned  with 


190  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

respect.  He  had  talents,  too,  which  were  of  no  mean  order.  Pe- 
lisson,  who  from  affection  to  his  mother  assumed  also  her  maiden 
name  of  Fontanier,  was  born  in  1624,  at  Bezieres,  and  was  brought 
up  in  the  Protestant  faith.  He  attained  an  early  and  rapid  profi- 
ciency in  literature  and  languages  ;  nor  were  severer  studies  neg- 
lected— for  at  the  age  of  only  nineteen  he  produced  an  excellent 
Latin  paraphrase  of  the  first  book  of  Justinian's  Institutes.  He  was 
beginning  to  shine  at  the  bar,  when  he  was  attacked  by  small- 
pox. *The  disease  so  excessively  disfigured  his  countenance,  and 
impaired  his  constitution  that  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  re- 
linquishing his  profession,  and  retiring  into  the  country  to  recruit 
his  health. 

As  soon  as  Pelisson  was  again  able  to  take  a  part  in  active  life, 
he  settled  in  Paris.  It  was  not  long  before  he  acquired  a  multi- 
tude of  friends  ;  and  the  French  Academy,  in  return  for  a  history 
which  he  wrote  of  its  early  labours,  made  him  a  supernumerary 
member,  and  destined  for  him  the  first  vacancy  which  should 
occur.  Fouquet,  who  knew  his  abilities,  appointed  him  his  chief 
clerk,  and  reposed  in  him  an  implicit  confidence,  which  was  well 
deserved.  Had  Fouquet  followed  the  advice  of  his  assistant,  who 
counseled  him  never  to  part  with  his  office  of  attorney-general,  he 
would  have  done  wisely.  When  this  advice  came  to  the  know- 
ledge of  Louis,  he  said  "the  clerk  is  more  sharp-sighted  than  the 
master." 

Pelisson  shared  the  fate  of  Fouquet;  he  was  sent  to  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  whence  he  was  removed  to  the  Bastile.  All  attempts 
to  elicit  from  him  the  secrets  of  the  superintendent  were  made  in 
vain.  Once  only,  to  answer  a  purpose,  he  seemed  to  make  a  dis- 
closure. Fearing  that,  from  not  knowing  whether  the  documents 
were  in  existence,  Fouquet  might  commit  himself  in  his  answers 
to  certain  questions,  Pelisson  feigned  to  divulge  some  unimportant 
particulars  which  related  to  the  subject.  Fouquet,  who  was  aston- 
ished at  this  seeming  defection  of  his  friend,  was  confronted  with 
him,  and  denied  the  correctness  of  what  had  been  stated:  "Sir," 
said  Pelisson,  in  an  emphatic  tone,  "  you  would  not  deny  so  boldly 
if  you  did  not  know  that  all  the  papers  concerning  that  affair  are 
destroyed."  Fouquet  instantly  comprehended  the  stratagem,  and 
acted  accordingly. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  confinement,  Pelisson  found  means  to 
compose  three  memorials  in  defence  of  Fouquet.  For  eloquence 
and  argument  they  may  be  considered  as  his  master-pieces ;  they 
were  published,  and  produced  a  strong  impression.  As  a  punish- 
ment, he  was  still  more  closely  immured,  and  pen  and  paper  were 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  191 

withheld  from  him;  but  he  contrived,  to  foil  his  persecutors,  by 
writing  with  ink  made  of  burnt  crust  and  wine,  on  the  blank 
leaves  and  margins  of  the  religious  works  which  he  was  allowed 
to  read.  They  were  equally  unsuccessful  when,  hoping  that  he 
might  drop  some  unguarded  words,  they  gave  him,  as  an  attendant, 
a  spy,  who  concealed  cunning  under  the  mask  of  coarse  simplicity. 
Pelisson  saw  through  the  deception,  and  adroitly  converted  the 
spy  into  an  instrument  of  his  own. 

The  imprisonment  of  Pelisson  lasted  four  years  and  a  half. 
Among  the  means  which  he  employed  to  beguile  his  lonely  hours 
is  said  to  have  been  that  of  taming  a  spider;  a  task  which  he 
effected  so  completely,  that  at  a  signal  it  would  fetch  its  prey  from 
the  further  end  of  the  room,  or  even  take  it  out  of  his  hand.  It 
is,  however,  doubtful  whether  Pelisson  was  the  person  who  per- 
formed this.  De  Renneville,  who  is  good  authority  on  this  sub- 
ject, ascribes  the  taming  of  the  spider  to  the  Count  de  Lauzun  ; 
and  adds,  that  the  gaoler,  St.  Mars,  brutally  crushed  the  insect, 
and  exclaimed  that  criminals  like  Lauzun  did  not  deserve  to  enjoy 
the  slightest  amusement. 

The  solicitations  of  Pelisson's  friends  at  length  procured  his 
release ;  in  memory  of  which  he  ever  after  yearly  liberated  some 
unfortunate  prisoner.  After  some  lapse  of  time,  he  was  even  re- 
ceived into  the  good  graces  of  Louis,  who  probably  thought  that 
the  man  who  had  been  faithful  to  a  ruined  minister  would  not  be 
wanting  in  fidelity  to  his  sovereign.  It  was,  besides,  no  small 
merit  in  the  king's  eyes,  that  Pelisson  had  become  a  Catholic. 
Louis  first  appointed  him  his  historiographer,  with  a  pension ;  then 
gave  him  several  valuable  benefices ;  and,  lastly,  entrusted  him 
with  the  management  of  the  fund  which  was  employed  in  pur- 
chasing proselytes.  Pelisson  died  in  1693. 

Pelisson  was  not  the  only  literary  character  who  was  drawn 
into  the  vortex  by  the  sinking  of  Fouquet.  The  gay  and  witty 
Epicurean  philosopher,  St.  Evremond,  was  punished  for  the  crime 
of  being  a  friend  of  the  fallen  superintendent.  Charles  St.  Evre- 
mond was  born  in  1613,  at  St.  Denis  le  Guast,  near  Coutances. 
From  the  study  of  the  law,  and  the  prospect  of  a  high  station  in 
the  magistracy,  he  was  seduced  by  his  love  of  arms,  and,  at  the 
age  of  sixteen,  he  obtained  aa  ensigncy.  He  still,  however,  re- 
tained his  taste  for  philosophy  and  literature.  By  his  bravery  he 
acquired  the  esteem  of  his  superiors;  and  that  esteem  was  height- 
ened by  his  varied  acquirements  and  the  charm  of  his  conversation. 
That  he  might  always  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  his  society,  the  Duke 
of  Enghien  appointed  him  lieutenant  of  his  guards.  In  this  post 


192  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

St.  Evremond  fought  gallantly  at  Rocroi,  Fribourg,  and  Nordlingen, 
in  the  last  of  which  battles  he  was  dangerously  wounded.  His 
familiar  intercourse  with  the  prince  was  not  of  long  duration; 
Enghien  delighted  to  see  others  exposed  to  the  wit  and  raillery 
of  his  lieutenant,  but  he  could  not  endure  to  be  himself  their  ob- 
ject; St.  Evremond  ventured  to  aim  some  pleasantries  at  his 
princely  protector,  and  the  great  Conde  had  the  littleness  to  take 
offence,  and  to  insist  on  the  offender  resigning  his  commission  in 
the  guards.  In  the  war  of  the  Fronde,  St.  Evremond  served  the 
royal  cause  with  pen  and  sword,  and  he  was  rewarded  with  a  pen- 
sion and  the  rank  of  major-general.  Some  satirical  remarks  on 
Mazarin,  which  he  soon  after  made  at  a  dinner  party,  were  the 
cause  of  his  being  thrown  into  the  Bastile.  Mazarin,  however, 
was  not  of  an  implacable  nature,  like  his  predecessor  Richelieu. 
At  the  expiration  of  three  months  he  set  the  prisoner  free,  took 
him  into  favour,  and  afterwards,  from  among  a  crowd  of  rivals, 
selected  him  as  his  companion,  when  he  went  to  negotiate  the 
peace  of  the  Pyrenees.  Dissatisfied  with  the  terms  of  that  peace, 
St.  Evremond  gave  vent  to  his  dissatisfaction,  in  a  private  letter 
to  the  Marshal  de  Crequi.  In  writing  it  he  unconsciously  wrote 
his  own  sentence  of  banishment.  A  copy  of  it  was  found  among 
the  papers  of  Fouquet ;  and  Colbert,  who  rejoiced  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  injuring  a  friend  of  Fouquet,  malignantly  repre- 
sented it  in  such  a  light  to  Louis  XIV.  that  an  order  was  issued 
to  convey  the  author  to  the  Bastile.  St.  Evremond  was  riding  in 
the  forest  of  Orleans  when  he  received  intelligence  from  his  friends 
of  the  danger  that  hung  over  him.  As  he  did  not  wish  to  pay  a 
second  visit  to  a  state  prison,  he  provided  for  his  safety  by  an 
immediate  and  rapid  flight.  In  England  he  was  welcomed  with 
open  arms,  and  was  idolized  by  the  wits  and  courtiers.  In  1664 
he  visited  Holland,  where  he  met  with  an  equally  cordial  reception, 
and  gained  the  friendship  of  the  Prince  of  Orange.  Charles  II. 
invited  him  to  return  to  England,  in  1670,  and  settled  on  him  a 
pension.  Henceforth,  till  his  decease,  which  took  place  in  1703, 
he  continued  to  reside  in  London.  His  friends  in  France  made 
repeated  efforts  to  obtain  his  recall;  but  they  could  not  succeed 
till  1689,  when  Louis  XIV.  was  pleased  to  grant  their  request. 
St.  Evremond  refused  to  accept  the  tardy  boon.  Living  at  his 
ease  in  a  free  country,  and  in  the  Highest  society,  and  admired  and 
esteemed  by  the  fair,  the  witty,  and  the  noble,  he  was  too  wise  to 
put  himself  into  "  circumscription  and  confine,"  and  purchase  the 
privilege  of  bending  before  a  despotic  monarch,  at  the  risk  of  being 
condemned  to  solitary  meditation  in  one  of  the  towers  of  the  Bas- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  193 

tile.  St.  Evremond  was  ninety  when  he  died,  but  he  preserved 
his  faculties  to  the  last.  He  was  interred  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
His  poetry  never  rises  above  mediocrity,  and  does  not  always 
reach  it ;  but  his  prose  is  often  excellent.  Justice  has  scarcely 
been  done  to  him  either  by  La  Harpe  or  Voltaire. 

A  harder  fate  than  that  of  voluntary  exile  was  the  lot  of  Simon 
Morin,  an  insane  visionary,  a  man  of  humble  birth,  who  was  born 
about  1623,  at  Richemont,  in  Normandy.  His  horrible  death, 
which  was  in  fact  a  judicial  murder,  perpetrated  by  a  fanaticism  far 
worse  than  his  own,  leaves  an  indelible  stain  on  the  character  of 
the  judges  by  whom  it  was  directed.  Morin  was  originally  a  clerk 
in  the  war-office,  but  lost  his  situation  by  neglecting  his  duties ; 
and  he  subsequently  gained  a  scanty  subsistence  as  a  copyist,  for 
which  he  was  well  qualified  by  the  beauty  of  his  handwriting. 
His  reason  appears  to  have  been  early  affected,  as  he  must  have 
been  under  twenty  when  he  was  first  put  into  prison  for  his  ex- 
travagant ideas  in  religious  matters.  After  his  release,  he  seems 
to  have  gradually  become  more  and  more  deranged.  Like  all 
madmen  of  his  class,  however,  he  gained  numerous  proselytes, 
who  listened  to  his  harangues,  and  read  his  printed  reveries,  with 
implicit  belief.  His  success  drew  6*h  him  the  attention  of  the 
government,  and,  in  July  1644,  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile.  At 
the  expiration  of  twenty  months,  he  was  set  at  liberty.  Imprison- 
ment had  only  heightened  his  malady,  and  he  consequently  la- 
boured with  more  vigour  than  ever  to  disseminate  his  opinions. 
Those  opinions  he  embodied  in  a  work  entitled  "Thoughts  of 
Morin,  with  his  Canticles  and  Spiritual  Quatrains,"  dedicated  to 
the  king.  He  called  himself  the  Son  of  Man,  and  maintained 
that  Christ  was  incorporated  in  him ;  that  in  his  person  was  to  take 
place  the  second  advent  of  the  Saviour  in  a  state  of  glory;  and 
that  the  result  would  be  a  general  reformation  of  the  Church,  and 
the  conversion  of  all  people  to  the  true  faith.  There  was  much 
more  of  the  same  kind  ;  he  was  in  France  what  Brothers,  long 
afterwards,  was  in  England.  Of  his  tenets,  several  bear  a  resem- 
blance to  those  which,  later  in  the  17th  century,  were  held  by  the 
Quietists.  The  publication  of  this  volume  again  brought  the  police 
upon  him.  For  some  time  he  eluded  them,  but  he  was  at  last 
discovered,  and  recommitted  to  the  Bastile.  In  1649,  he  retracted 
his  errors,  and  was  released,  and  he  repeated  his  retractation  four 
months  after  his  being  set  free.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
he  relapsed,  and  for  this  he  was  sent  to  the  Conciergerie,  whence 
he  was  transferred  to  the  Petites  Maisons,  as  an  incurable  lunatic. 
The  last  was  the  only  sensible  measure  which  was  adopted  with 
13 


194  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


respect  to  him.  By  another  abjuration,  he  once  more  recovered 
his  liberty;  and,  as  soon  as  he  was  let  loose,  he  once  more  asserted 
his  claim  to  be  an  incarnation  of  the  Deity.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  he  had  short  lucid  intervals,  and  that  it  was  during 
these  intervals  that  he  renounced  his  errors. 

Thus,  alternately  raving  and  recanting,  Morin  went  on  till  1661, 
when,  in  an  evil  hour,  he  contracted  an  intimacy  with  a  man  who 
was  no  less  a  visionary  than  he  himself  was,  and  whose  nature 
was  deeply  tinctured  with  malignity  and  deceit.  This  man,  John 
Desmarets  de  St.  Sorlin,  a  member  of  the  French  Academy,  was 
the  author  of  several  works,  now  sunk  into  oblivion,  among  which 
are  a  ponderous  epic  called  Clovis,  and  several  theatrical  pieces. 
From  his  own  showing,  he  appears  to  have  been  in  youth  a  mon- 
ster of  immorality ;  and  though  in  advanced  life  he  affected  piety, 
his  conduct  did  not  prove  his  heart  to  be  more  ameliorated; 
he  became  fanatical  instead  of  becoming  virtuous.  A  brief  speci- 
men, from  some  of  his  rhapsodies,  will  show  how  completely  his 
wits  were  "turned  the  seamy  side  without."  He  asserted  that 
God,  in  his  infinite  goodness,  had  given  him  the  key  of  the  treasure 
of  the  Apocalypse;  that  he  was  Eliachim Michael,  a  prophet ;  that 
he  had  the  Divine  command  to  raise  an  army  of  144,000  men, 
bearing  the  seal  of  God  on  their  foreheads,  which  army  was  to  be 
headed  by  the  king,  to  exterminate  the  impious  and  the  Jansenists ; 
and  that  Louis  XIV.  was  indicated  by  the  prophets  as  the  person 
who  was  destined  to  drive  out  the  Turks,  and  extend  throughout 
the  whole  earth  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Had  not  Desmarets  been 
a  hater  of  the  Jansenists,  and  a  flatterer  of  the  monarch,  he  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  sent  to  study  the  Apocalypse  in  the  soli- 
tude of  a  prison. 

The  trite  proverb,  that  "two  of  a  trade  cannot  agree,"  was 
verified  by  Desmarets ;  he  resolved  to  destroy  the  man  who  dared 
to  make  pretensions  that  eclipsed  his  own.  To  effect  his  purpose, 
he  acted  with  the  cunning  of  a  lunatic,  and  the  dark-heartedness 
of  a  fiend.  By  paying  assiduous  court  to  Morin,  by  pretending 
to  be  one  of  his  most  submissive  disciples,  and  even  by  going  so 
far  as  to  write  him  a  letter,  unequivocally  recognizing  him  as  the 
Son  of  Man,  he  contrived  to  insinuate  himself  into  the  confidence 
of  his  unfortunate  victim,  and  to  draw  from  him  his  most  secret 
thoughts.  In  the  course  of  their  conversations,  Morin  is  said  to 
have  declared,  among  other  things,  that  unless  the  king  ac- 
knowledged his  mission,  he  would  die.  Having  thus  furnished 
himself  with  evidence  against  the  man  whom  he  had  deluded, 
Desmarets  hastened  to  denounce  him  as  a  heretic  and  traitor. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  195 

Orders  were  issued  for  arresting  Morin,.who  was  found  engaged 
in  copying  out  a  "Discourse  to  the  King,"  which  began  with 
"the  Son  of  Man  to  the  King  of  France."  He  was  brought  to 
trial,  and  was  sentenced  to  be  burned  alive.  Some  of  his  followers 
were  condemned  to  whipping  and  the  galleys.  The  iniquitous 
judgment  passed  on  Morin  was  executed  on  the  14th  of  March, 
1663.  At  the  stake  his  reason  seems  to  have  returned;  he  re- 
peatedly called  on  the  Saviour  and  the  Virgin,  and  humbly  prayed 
for  mercy  to  the  Creator  of  all  things. 

Little  commiseration  is  due  to  him  whose  imprisonment  is  next 
recorded ;  his  baseness  met  with  deserved  punishment.  Francis 
Rene  Crispin  du  Bee,  Marquis  of  Vardes,  was  of  a  good  family, 
and  served  with  reputation  in  Flanders,  France,  Italy,  and  Spain. 
During  the  war  of  the  Fronde,  he  was  constant  to  the  royal  party; 
and  it  was  doubtless  his  zeal  and  fidelity  on  this  occasion  which 
acquired  for  him  the  friendship  of  Louis  XIV.  He  rose  to  high 
rank  in  the  army ;  was  made  captain-colonel  of  the  Hundred 
Swiss  in  1655;  and  next  year  succeeded  the  Duke  of  Orleans  in 
the  government  of  Aigues-Mortes,  and  was  invested  with  the 
various  orders  of  knighthood.  He  was  on  the  point  of  being 
created  a  duke  and  peer,  when  the  discovery  of  a  dishonourable 
act  of  which  he  had  been  guilty,  stopped  his  promotion,  and  de- 
prived him  of  his  liberty.  Louis  had  chosen  Vardes  as  his 
friend,  and  had  confided  to  him  his  passion  for  the  celebrated 
Mile,  de  la  Valliere,  who  was  one  of  the  maids  of  honour  to  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.  It  appears  that  the  duchess  and  her  friend, 
the  Countess  of  Soissons,  and  their  lovers,  the  Count  de  Guiche 
and  Vardes,  had  hoped,  by  means  of  La  Valliere,  to  obtain  a  pre- 
dominant influence  over  Louis.  But  the  royal  mistress  loved 
Louis  with  a  sincere  and  disinterested  affection,  and  was  not  dis- 
posed to  become  the  instrument  of  court  intriguers.  It  was 
resolved,  therefore,  to  oust  her,  and  substitute  in  her  stead  Mile, 
de  la  Mothe  Houdancourt,  who,  it  was  imagined,  would  be  more 
subservient.  To  effect  this  object,  Vardes  wrote  a  letter  purport- 
ing to  be  from  the  Spanish  monarch,  to  his  daughter  the  French 
queen,  informing  her  of  her  consort's  connection  with  La  Valliere; 
it  was  translated  into  Spanish  by  Guiche.  The  letter,  however, 
fell  into  the  hands  of  Louis.  While  endeavouring  to  discover  the 
author,  the  king  consulted  Vardes,  and  Vardes  was  so  ineffably 
base  as  to  lead  him  to  believe  that  the  offender  was  the  Duchess 
of  Noailles.  The  duchess,  a  woman  of  strict  virtue,  had  the 
superintendence  of  the  queen's  maids  of  honour,  and  had  already 
dissatisfied  Louis  by  her  vigilant  care  of  her  charge.  He  there- 


196  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

fore  readily  believed  the  suggestion  of  Vardes,  and  without  further 
inquiry,  deprived  the  duchess  and  her  husband  of  all  the  places 
which  they  held,  and  ordered  them  to  retire  to  their  estate.  For 
three  years  the  perfidy  of  Vardes  remained  a  secret,  and  it  would 
perhaps  always  have  remained  so,  had  he  not  caused  a  disclosure 
of  it,  by  conduct  which  was  at  once  a  flagrant  breach  of  confidence 
to  his  friend  the  Count  de  Guiche,  and  a  gross  insult  to  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.  He  obtained  possession  of  the  letters  written 
by  the  count  to  the  duchess,  and  refused  to  give  them  up ;  and 
he  incited  the  Chevalier  de  Lorraine  to  make  offensive  advances 
to  her.  This  proceeding  brought  on  a  quarrel,  the  result  of  which 
was  that  the  king  became  acquainted  with  the  treachery  of  the 
man  whom  he  had  trusted.  Vardes  was  sent  to  the  Bastile  in 
December,  1664,  from  whence  he  was  removed  to  the  citadel  of 
Montpellier,  where  he  was  closely  confined  for  eighteen  months. 
He  was  at  length  allowed  to  reside  in  his  government  of  Aigues- 
Mortes ;  but  eighteen  years  passed  away  before  he  was  recalled 
to  the  court.  He  is  said  to  have  employed  in  study  the  period  of 
his  exile,  and  to  have  made  himself  generally  esteemed  in  Lan- 
guedoc.  When,  after  his  long  banishment,  he  was  graciously 
received  by  the  king,  Vardes  was  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  his 
early  days,  and  when  Louis  laughed  at  the  antique  cut  of  his 
coat,  the  supple  courtier  replied,  "  Sire,  when  one  is  so  wretched 
as  to  be  banished  from  you,  one  is  not  only  unfortunate,  but  ridicu- 
lous !"  Vardes  did  not  long  enjoy  his  re-establishment  in  the  royal 
favour;  he  died  in  1688. 

To  Vardes  succeeds  another  noble,  Count  Roger  Bussy  de 
Rabutin,  who,  though  he  is  not  accused  of  such  baseness  as  that 
of  which  Vardes  was  guilty,  was  by  no  means  a  model  of  delicacy 
and  virtue.  He  seems,  indeed,  to  have  been  of  opinion,  that 
honour  and  honesty  were  not  necessary  qualities  in  the  persons 
whom  he  had  about  him;  for,  in  his  Memoirs,  he  coolly  describes 
one  gentleman,  who  was  of  his  train,  as  having  been  all  his  life 
a  cut-purse ;  and  another,  on  whom  he  bestows  praise  for  some 
things,  as  being  addicted  to  every  vice,  and  no  less  familiar  with 
robbery  and  murder  than  with  eating  and  drinking.  Such  being 
his  laxity  of  principles,  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  sometimes  par- 
ticipated in  disgusting  orgies,  and  was  even  suspected  of  feeling 
a  more  than  parental  love  for  Madame  de  la  Riviere,  his  daughter. 
Bussy  de  Rabutin  was  born  in  1618,  entered  the  army  when  he 
was  only  twelve  years  of  age,  served  in  all  the  campaigns  between 
1634  and  1663,  and  attained  the  rank  of  lieutenant-general.  His 
bravery  was  undoubted,  but  his  vanity,  arrogance,  and  satirical 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  197 

spirit,  made  him  numerous  enemies  among  his  brother  officers. 
On  one  occasion  he  lampooned  Turenne,  and  that  great  general, 
deviating  from  his  usual  magnanimity,  avenged  himself  by  writ- 
ing to  the  king,  that  "M.  de  Bussy  was  the  best  officer  in  the 
army — for  songs."  In  1641  Bussy  was  an  inmate  of  the  Bastile 
for  five  months.  The  defective  discipline  of  his  regiment,  and 
its  having  engaged  in  smuggling  salt,  was  the  ostensible  cause  of 
his  imprisonment ;  he  himself  assigned  as  the  reason,  that  his 
father  was  hated  by  Desnoyers,  the  minister.  The  same  faults 
by  which  his  companions  in  arms  had  been  converted  into  foes, 
proved  his  ruin  at  court.  He  wrote  a  libelous  work,  called  the 
"Amorous  History  of  the  Gauls,"  which  was  published  in  1665, 
and  excited  a  general  outcry  among  the  personages  whom  it  de- 
scribes. Bussy  affirms  that  it  was  sent  to  the  press  without  his 
consent,  and  even  with  malignant  alterations  and  additions,  by  an 
unfaithful  mistress,  to  whom  he  entrusted  the  manuscript.  This 
production  was  made  the  pretext  for  committing  him  to  the  Bas- 
tile ;  but  it  is  said  that  his  real  offence  was  a  song,  in  which  he 
ridiculed  the  king's  passion  for  the  Duchess  of  la  Valliere.  His 
imprisonment  lasted  twenty  months,  and  he  candidly  owns,  in  his 
Memoirs  and  Letters,  that  it  was  not  very  patiently  endured.  By 
dint  of  importunity,  seconded  by  an  illness  with  which  he  was 
attacked,  he  at  length  recovered  his  liberty.  During  his  captivity 
he  was  compelled  to  resign,  for  a  much  less  sum  than  it  cost  him, 
the  major-generalship  of  the  light  cavalry.  But  though  Bussy 
was  released,  he  was  not  pardoned;  he  was  banished  to  his  es- 
tate. Notwithstanding  his  abject  supplications,  which  were  in- 
cessantly renewed,  he  remained  an  exile  for  sixteen  years.  At 
last,  in  1682,  he  was  graciously  permitted  to  re-appear  at  court. 
His  happiness  was,  however,  still  incomplete ;  for  the  courtiers 
soon  began  to  cabal  against  him,  and  the  monarch  to  treat  him 
coldly;  and,  though  he  succeeded  in  procuring  a  pension  for 
himself,  and  pensions  and  preferments  for  his  children,  he  failed 
to  obtain  the  blue  ribbon  and  a  marshal's  staff,  which  were  the 
great  objects  of  his  ambition.  He  died  in  1693. 

A  longer  term  of  imprisonment  than  was  undergone  by  Bussy 
Rabutin  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  next  prisoner.  Among  the  victims 
of  the  persecution  which  was  carried  on  against  the  Jansenists, 
was  Louis  Isaac  le  Maistre,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Saci, 
which  is  an  anagram  formed  by  him  from  one  of  his  Christian 
names.  He  was  born  in  1613,  and  was  educated  at  the  college  of 
Beauvais,  along  with  his  uncle,  the  celebrated  Anthony  Arnauld. 
Though  he  was  early  destined  to  the  clerical  profession,  he  did 


198  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

not  take  orders  till  he  was  in  his  thirty-fifth  year ;  a  praiseworthy 
humility  having  long  induced  him  to  doubt  his  being  competent 
to  fulfil  properly  the  duties  of  a  gospel  minister.  He  was  soon 
after  appointed  director  of  the  Port  Royal  nuns,  on  which  occa- 
sion he  took  up  his  abode  in  the  convent,  resigning  to  it  all  his 
property,  except  a  small  annuity,  and  of  that  he  distributed  the 
largest  portion  to  the  poor.  His  time  was  spent  in  study,  prayer, 
and  pious  exercises.  But  a  blameless  life  was  not  sufficient  to 
shield  him  from  theological  hatred.  In  1661  he  was  compelled 
to  fly  from  the  convent,  and  he  remained  in  concealment  till  1666, 
when  he  was  discovered  and  conveyed  to  the  Bastile.  In  that 
prison  he  was  immured  for  three  years  and  a  half,  and  he  solaced 
his  lonely  hours  by  undertaking  a  translation  of  the  Bible,  a  con- 
siderable part  of  which  he  accomplished  while  he  was  held  in 
durance.  He,  however,  did  not  live  to  complete  it.  In  the 
autumn  of  1669  he  was  set  at  liberty.  The  minister,  to  whom 
he  was  presented  on  leaving  the  Bastile,  seems  to  have  been 
willing  to  grant  him  some  favour,  as  a  compensation  for  his  un- 
merited sufferings ;  but  all  that  Saci  asked  was,  that  the  prisoners 
might  be  more  leniently  treated.  After  the  destruction  of  Port 
Royal,  he  found  an  asylum  in  the  house  of  his  cousin,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Pomponne,  and  there  he  ended  his  days,  in  1684.  Saci 
was  such  an  enemy  to  controversy  that,  though  often  attacked,  he 
is  said  never  to  have  replied  except  in  one  instance.  Voltaire 
speaks  of  him  as  "one  of  the  good  writers  of  Port  Royal."  In 
the  poetical  compositions  of  Saci,  which  were  his  earliest  literary 
attempts,  there  are  passages  that  rise  above  mediocrity.  Among 
his  principal  works,  besides  his  version  of  the  Bible,  are  trans- 
lations of  the  Psalms,  St.  Thomas  a  Kempis,  two  books  of  the 
Eneid,  the  Fables  of  PhaBdrus,  and  three  of  the  Comedies  of 
Terence. 

From  the  pious  and  humble  pastor  we  must  turn  to  a  very  dif- 
ferent sort  of  personage,  to  one  of  the  courtier  species,  a  man 
more  remarkable  for  his  sudden  rise,  and  for  the  vicissitudes  which 
he  experienced,  than  for  genius  or  virtue.  Three  of  his  eminent 
cotemporaries  have  left  on  record  their  opinion  of  Antoninus  de 
Caumont,  Count,  and  afterwards,  Duke  of  Lauzun.  The  witty 
Bussy  Rabutin  pithily  describes  him  as  being  "  one  of  the  least 
men,  in  mind  as  well  as  body,  that  God  ever  created."  The  more 
phlegmatic  Duke  of  Berwick  says  of  him,  "  He  had  a  sort  of 
talent,  which,  however,  consisted  only  in  turning  everything  into 
ridicule,  insinuating  himself  into  everybody's  confidence,  worm- 
ing out  their  secrets,  and  playing  upon  their  foibles.  He  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

noble  in  his  carriage,  generous,  and  lived  in  a  splendid  style.-— 
He  loved  high  play,  and  played  like  a  gentleman.  His  figure 
was  very  diminutive,  and  it  is  incomprehensible  how  he  could 
ever  have  become  a  favourite  with  the  ladies."  The  satirical  St. 
Simon  has  drawn,  in  his  best  manner,  a  full-length  portrait  of 
Lauzun,  which  has  scarcely  a  single  redeeming  feature.  He 
does,  indeed,  allow,  that  he  was  a  good  friend, «« when  he  chanced 
to  be  a  friend,  which  was  rarely,"  and  a  good  relation ;  that  he 
had  noble  manners,  and  was  brave  to  excess.  This  is  the  sole 
speck  of  light  in  the  picture  ;  the  rest  is  all  shade.  In  the  like- 
ness drawn  by  St.  Simon,  we  see  Lauzun,  "  full  of  ambition,  ca- 
prices, and  whimsies,  jealous  of  every  one,  striving  always  to  go 
beyond  the  mark,  never  satisfied,  illiterate,  unadorned  and  unat- 
tractive in  mind,  morose,  solitary,  and  unsociable  in  disposition, 
mischievous  and  spiteful  by  nature,  and  still  more  so  from  ambi- 
tion and  jealousy,  prompt  to  become  an  enemy,  even  to  those  who 
were  not  his  rivals,  cruel  in  exposing  defects,  and  in  finding  and 
making  subjects  for  ridicule,  scattering  his  ill-natured  wit  about 
him  without  sparing  any  one  ;  and  to  crown  the  whole,  a  courtier 
equally  insolent,  scoffing,  and  base  even  to  servility,  and  replete 
with  arts,  intrigues,  and  meannesses,  to  accomplish  his  designs." 
Such  was  the  man  whom  the  king  long  delighted  to  honour. 

Lauzun,  who  at  his  outset  bore  the  title  of  Marquis  de  Puyguil- 
hem,  was  the  youngest  son  of  a  noble  Gascon  family,  and  was 
introduced  at  court  by  the  Marshal  de  Grammont,  his  relation. 
He  soon  became  the  favourite  of  Louis,  who  heaped  riches  and 
places  upon  him ;  some  of  the  latter  were  expressly  created  for 
him.  When  the  Duke  of  Mazarin  resigned  the  mastership  of 
the  ordnance,  the  king  promised  it  to  Lauzun,  but  bound  him  to 
keep  the  matter  secret  for  a  short  time.  The  folly  and  vanity  of 
the  favourite,  who  could  not  refrain  from  boasting  of  his  good  for- 
tune, were  the  cause  of  his  disappointment.  Louvois  thus  ob- 
tained a  knowledge  of  the  nomination,  and  remonstrated  against 
it  so  strongly,  and  with  such  sound  reasons,  that  it  was  revoked 
by  the  monarch.  On  this  occasion  a  scene  took  place  such  as  has 
seldom  occurred  between  monarch  and  subject.  After  having 
vainly  tried  to  persuade  the  king  to  carry  into  effect  his  original 
intention,  Lauzun  burst  into  a  furious  passion,  turned  his  back  on 
him,  broke  his  own  sword  under  his  foot,  and  vowed  that  he 
would  never  again  serve  a  prince  who  had  violated  his  word  so 
shamefully.  Louis  acted  in  this  instance  with  true  dignity. 
Opening  the  window,  he  threw  out  his  cane,  and,  as  he  was  quit- 
ting the  room,  he  coolly  said,  "  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  struck 


200  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

a  man  of  rank."  The  next  morning,  however,  Lauzun  was  con- 
veyed to  the  Bastile.  But  Louis  was  soon  induced  to  forgive  the 
offender,  and  even  to  offer  him,  as  an  indemnity  for  his  loss,  the 
post  of  captain  of  the  royal  guards.  It  strongly  marks  the  inso- 
lence of  Lauzun,  that  he  at  first  refused  to  accept  the  proffered 
grace,  and  that  entreaties  were  required  to  induce  him  to  accept  it. 

Lauzun  had  scarcely  been  twelve  months  out  of  the  Bastile, 
before  he  had  an  opportunity  of  becoming  the  richest  subject  in 
Europe.  A  granddaughter  of  Henry  IV.,  the  celebrated  Duchess 
of  Montpensier,  usually  known  by  the  appellation  of  Mademoi- 
selle, who  had  reached  her  forty-second  year,  fell  violently  in  love 
with  him.  In  her  Memoirs  she  gives  a  curious  and  amusing 
account  of  her  wooing,  for  the  courtship  was  all  on  the  side  of  the 
lady.  So  completely  had  Lauzun  recovered  his  influence,  that 
the  king  gave  his  consent  to  their  union.  The  marriage  contract 
secured  to  him  three  duchies  and  twenty  millions  of  livres.  A 
second  time  his  fortune  was  marred  by  his  vanity.  His  friends 
urged  him  to  hasten  the  nuptials,  but  he  delayed,  that  they  might 
be  celebrated  with  royal  splendour.  Of  this  delay  his  enemies 
availed  themselves  to  work  upon  the  pride  of  the  monarch,  and 
they  succeeded  in  breaking  off  the  match.  The  duchess  was 
rendered  inconsolable  by  this  event ;  Lauzun  seems  to  have  borne 
it  with  sufficient  philosophy.  A  secret  marriage  between  them 
is  believed  to  have  subsequently  taken  place. 

Lauzun  was  supposed  to  be  now  more  firmly  fixed  than  ever  in 
the  king's  good  graces.  He  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  army 
which,  in  1670,  escorted  the  king  and  the  court  to  Flanders,  and 
he  displayed  extraordinary  magnificence  in  this  command.  But, 
flattering  as  appearances  were,  he  was  on  the  eve  of  his  fall.  He 
had  two  active  and  powerful  enemies ;  Louvois,  whom  he  con- 
stantly thwarted  and  provoked  in  various  ways,  and  Madame  de 
Montespan,  the  king's  mistress,  whom  he  had  more  than  once 
grossly  insulted.  Political  rivalry  and  hatred,  and  female  revenge, 
were  finally  triumphant.  The  minister  and  the  mistress  so  inces- 
santly laboured  to  blacken  Lauzun,  whose  private  marriage  with 
Mademoiselle  is  said  to  have  aided  their  efforts,  that,  in  November 
1671,  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile,  whence  he  was  soon  after  re- 
moved to  the  fortress  of  Pignerol.  In  that  fortress  he  was  closely 
confined  in  a  cell  for  nearly  five  years.  His  situation  was  at  length 
somewhat  ameliorated,  but  his  imprisonment  was  continued  for 
five  years  more.  It  is  probable  that  he  would  have  spent  the  rest 
of  his  days  at  Pignerol,  had  not  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier  pur- 
chased his  freedom,  by  sacrificing  the  duchy  of  Aumale,  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  201 

earldom  of  Eu,  and  the  principality  of  Dombes,  to  form  an  ap- 

rnage  for  the  illegitimate  son  of  Louis  by  Madame  de  Montespan. 
is  an  additional  stain  on  the  character  of  Lauzun,  that  he  proved 
ungrateful  to  his  deliverer. 

Though  Lauzuri  was  released,  he  was  not  suffered  to  approach 
the  court.  Tired  of  his  exile  from  Versailles,  he  passed  over  to 
England.  On  the  revolution  of  1688  breaking  out,  James  placed 
the  queen  and  the  infant  prince  under  his  care,  to  be  conveyed  to 
France.  This  trust  opened  the  way  to  his  readmission  into  the 
royal  presence,  and  to  his  being  created  a  duke ;  but  he  never  re- 
gained the  confidence  of  the  monarch.  He  led  a  reinforcement 
of  the  French  troops  to  James  in  Ireland  ;  and  displayed,  as  the 
Duke  of  Berwick  states,  none  of  the  qualities  of  a  general.  He 
died  in  1723,  at  the  age  of  more  than  ninety.  The  closing  scene 
of  his  life  was  perhaps  the  only  one  for  which  he  deserves  praise. 
His  disease  was  cancer  in  the  mouth,  the  protracted  and  horrible 
torture  of  which  he  bore  with  astonishing  temper  and  fortitude. 

The  severe  example  which  was  made  of  de  Bouteville,  in  the 
reign  of  Louis  XIII.,  though  it  gave  a  temporary  check  to  the 
practice  of  dueling,  was  far  from  putting  an  end  to  it.  Nor  did 
better  success  attend  the  ordinances  issued  in  1634  by  Louis  XIII., 
and  in  1643,  1651,'  and  1670,  by  Louis  XIV.  The  feebleness  of 
the  royal  authority,  during  a  disturbed  regency,  and  the  war  of 
the  Fronde,  with  the  quarrels  arising  out  of  it,  doubtless  tended 
to  neutralize  the  laws.  But,  even  when  Louis  XIV.  was  in  un- 
contested  possession  of  despotic  power,  we  find  that  the  murder- 
ous custom  of  fighting  in  parties  was  still  existing.  In  1663,  a 
famous  duel  took  place  between  the  two  La  Frettes,  Saint  Aignan, 
and  Argenlieu,  on  the  one  side,  and  Chalais,  Noirmoutier,  d'Antin, 
and  Flamarens,  on  the  other.  The  axe  was  at  length  laid  to  the 
root  of  the  evil,  by  the  edict  of  August  1679,  which  constituted 
the  marshals  of  France,  and  the  governors  of  provinces,  supreme 
judges  in  all  cases  where  individuals  supposed  their  honour  to 
have  been  wounded.  This  edict  prohibited,  under  the  heaviest 
penalties,  all  private  combats  and  rencounters,  both  within  and 
without  the  kingdom.  One  clause  seems  excellently  calculated 
to  produce  its  intended  effect,  no  less  by  the  insinuation  with 
which  it  opens,  than  by  the  denunciations  with  which  it  con- 
cludes. "Those,"  it  says,  "who,  doubting  of  their  own  courage, 
shall  have  called  in  the  aid  of  seconds,  thirds,  or  a  greater  num- 
ber of  persons,  shall,  besides  the  punishment  of  death  and  con- 
fiscation, be  degraded  from  their  nobility,  and  have  their  coat  of 
arms  publicly  blackened  and  broken  by  the  hangman ;  their  sue- 


202  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

cessors  shall  be  obliged  to  adopt  new  arms;  and  the  seconds, 
thirds,  and  other  accomplices  shall  be  punished  in  the  same  man- 
ner." This  salutary  edict  appears  to  have  nearly  accomplished 
the  purpose  for  which  it  was  framed.  The  slavish  fear  of  incur- 
ring the  displeasure  of  the  sovereign,  a  feeling  which  was  so 
prevalent  among  the  courtiers  of  Louis  XIV.,  perhaps  aided 
materially  in  producing  obedience  to  the  law.  It  would  have 
been  well  if  a  worse  effect  had  never  resulted  from  that  kind  of 
fear. 

Among  the  fashionable  gladiators  of  those  days  was  Philip 
d'Oger,  Marquis  of  Cavoie,  a  man  whom  nature  had  liberally  en- 
dowed with  the  means  of  shining  in  a  nobler  sphere.  Cavoie, 
born  in  1640,  and  descended  from  an  ancient  Picard  family,  was 
the  son  of  a  woman  of  talent,  who  gained  the  good  graces  of 
Anne  of  Austria,  and  availed  herself  of  her  influence  to  forward 
the  fortune  of  her  offspring.  His  personal  appearance  was  greatly 
in  his  favour;  he  was  one  of  the  handsomest  and  best  made  men 
in  France,  and  he  dressed  with  singular  elegance.  His  courage, 
too,  was  no  less  conspicuous  than  his  corporeal  qualities.  In 
1666,  he  served  as  a  volunteer  on  board  of  the  Dutch  fleet,  under 
De  Ruyter;  and  in  the  battle  with  the  Duke  of  Albemarle  he  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  the  perilous  exploit  of  proceeding  in  a  boat 
to  cut  the  cable  with  which  some  English  sloops  were  towing 
down  a  fire-ship  on  the  Dutch  admiral.  He  succeeded  in  his 
daring  attempt,  and  escaped  unhurt.  By  this  gallant  action  he 
acquired  the  friendship  of  the  celebrated  Turenne.  Long  before 
this  he  had  become  known  as  *«  the  brave  Cavoie,"  in  consequence 
of  his  gallant  bearing  in  the  single  combats  which  were  still  too 
common  in  France. 

It  was  for  having  acted  as  second  in  one  of  these  combats,  that 
he  was  immured  in  the  Bastiie.  His  imprisonment  would,  per- 
haps, have  been  protracted,  but  for  a  curious  circumstance,  of 
which  a  pleasant  account  is  given  by  the  Duke  de  St.  Simon. 
Mile,  de  Coetlogon,  one  of  the  maids  of  honour  to  the  consort  of 
Louis  XIV.,  had  fallen  madly  in  love  with  Cavoie.  St.  Simon 
describes  her  as  being  "  ugly,  prudent,  naive,  much  liked,  and  a 
very  good  creature."  It  is  no  slight  proof  of  her  amability,  that, 
in  a  frivolous  and  satirical  court,  her  sorrows  were  a  subject  of 
pity  instead  of  laughter.  Cavoie  was  anything  but  delighted 
with  her  idolatrous  fondness,  which  she  seemed  to  glory  in  mani- 
festing; and  he  strove  to  rid  himself  of  it  by  being  obdurate,  and 
even  downright  harsh.  In  spite  of  his  repulsive  conduct,  how- 
ever, she  became  every  day  fonder.  When  he  went  to  the  army, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

her  tears  and  cries  were  incessant,  and  during  the  whole  of  the 
campaign  she  obstinately  abstained  from  adorning  her  person  in 
the  smallest  degree.  It  was  not  till  he  came  back  that  she  re- 
sumed her  customary  style  of  dress.  His  being  committed  to  the 
Bastile  renewed  her  grief.  "  She  spoke  to  the  king  in  behalf  of 
Cavoie,"  says  St.  Simon,  "and  not  being  able  to  obtain  his  deliver- 
ance, she  scolded  his  majesty  so  violently  as  to  abuse  him.  The 
king  laughed  heartily,  at  which  she  was  so  much  incensed  that 
she  threatened  him  with  her  nails,  and  he  thought  it  prudent  not 
to  run  the  risk  of  them.  He  every  day  dined  and  supped  pub- 
licly with  the  queen;  at  dinner  it  was  usual  for  the  Duchess  of 
Richelieu  and  the  queen's  maids  of  honour  to  wait  upon  them. 
On  these  occasions,  Coetlogon  never  -would  hand  anything  to  the 
king;  either  she  avoided  him,  or  she  flatly  refused,  and  told  him 
that  he  did  not  deserve  to  be  waited  upon  by  her.  Next  she  was 
ill  of  jaundice,  and  had  violent  hysterics,  and  fits  of  despair. 
This  went  so  far,  that  the  king  and  queen  seriously  desired  the 
Duchess  of  Richelieu  to  accompany  her  to  the  Bastile.  to  see  Ca- 
voie; and  this  was  twice  or  thrice  repeated.  At  last  he  was  re- 
leased, and  Coetlogon,  in  raptures,  again  took  to  dressing ;  but  it 
was  not  without  much  difficulty  that  she  could  be  reconciled  to 
the  king." 

It  is  delightful  to  know  that  the  devoted  love  of  this  warm- 
hearted female  was  rewarded  ;  and  it  is  honourable  to  Louis 
XIV.  that,  instead  of  meanly  resenting  her  bursts  of  passion,  he 
kindly  and  successfully  exerted  himself  to  render  her  happy.  In 
conjunction  with  the  queen,  he  more  than  once  pleaded  for  the 
enamoured  lady,  but  he  found  Cavoie  averse  to  a  marriage. 
At  length,  the  death  of  his  grand  marechal-de-logis  enabled  the 
king  to  attack  Cavoie  with  advantage.  This  time,  however,  he 
spoke  in  the  tone  of  an  absolute  monarch;  for  he  insisted  that 
Cavoie  should  wed  Mile,  de  Coetlogon;  but,  in  return,  he  pro- 
mised to  put  him  in  the  road  to  fortune,  and,  as  a  dowry  to  the 
portionless  maid,  he  gave  him  the  splendid  office  which  had  just 
become  vacant.  Despotism  thus  exercised  may  be  forgiven,  if 
only  for  its  rarity.  Cavoie  yielded  to  the  command  of  his  sove- 
reign, and  the  desired  union  took  place.  The  result  was  more 
satisfactory  than  might  have  been  expected.  Cavoie  proved  to  be 
an  indulgent  husband,  and  she,  on  her  part,  never  ceased  to  look 
up  to  him  as  a  sort  of  superior  being.  Neither  in  her  maiden  nor 
in  her  married  state,  was  her  virtue  for  a  moment  doubted. 

Cavoie  accompanied  Louis  XIV.  in  all  his  campaigns.  At  the 
passage  of  the  Rhine,  his  intrepidity  called  forth  praise  from  the 


204  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

king  himself.  A  report  having  soon  after  been  spread,  that 
Cavoie  was  among  the  slain,  Louis  exclaimed,  "O,  how  grieved 
M.  de  Turenne  will  be !"  The  courtiers  who  surrounded  him 
were  joining  in  a  general  chorus  of  eulogium  upon  the  supposed 
dead  man,  when  a  horseman  was  seen  plunging  into  the  river  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  swimming  over.  It  was  Cavoie,  whom  the 
Prince  de  Conde  had  sent  to  the  monarch,  to  announce  to  him  the 
complete  success  of  his  army. 

For  many  years  Cavoie  was  held  in  high  esteem  at  court,  and 
enjoyed  the  confidence  of  his  master.  A  circumstance  at  length 
occurred  to  disturb  his  peace.  He  had  hoped  to  be  included  in 
the  number  of  those  on  whom  the  order  of  the  Holy  Ghost  was 
conferred  in  1688,  but  he  was  disappointed.  This  disappointment 
was  the  work  of  Louvois,  who  hated  him,  because  he  was  the  old 
and  firm  friend  of  the  Marquis  de  Seignalai.  Wounded  by  this 
slight,  the  grand  marechal  wrote  a  letter  to  Louis,  informing  him 
that  he  intended  to  retire.  But  the  vows  of  chagrined  courtiers 
are  as  brittle  as  those  of  lovers.  The  king  called  him  into  his 
cabinet,  and,  with  that  graciousness  which  he  well  knew  how  to 
assume,  he  said  to  him,  "We  have  lived  too  long  together  to  part 
now;  I  cannot  let  you  quit  me;  I  will  see  that  you  shall  be  satis- 
fied." Cavoie  abandoned  his  design  of  withdrawing  from  court; 
but  the  promised  blue  ribbon  was  never  bestowed  on  him. 

At  a  later  period,  about  twenty  years  before  his  decease,  he 
resumed  and  carried  into  execution  his  purpose  of  seceding  from 
public  life.  He  was  a  patron  of  literary  characters  in  general, 
and  was  in  habits  of  close  intimacy  with  Racine,  Boileau,  and 
other  eminent  authors.  Cavoie  died  in  1716,  at  the  age  of  76, 
leaving  behind  him  the  enviable  reputation  of  having  been  a  man 
on  whose  sincerity  and  probity  an  implicit  reliance  might  with 
safety  be  placed. 

From  Cavoie  we  pass  to  an  individual  of  a  less  estimable  cha- 
racter. Louis,  Prince  of  Rohan,  commonly  known  by  the  title  of 
the  Chevalier  Rohan,  a  degenerate  descendant  from  illustrious 
ancestors,  was  born  about  1635.  Rohan  was  endowed  by  nature 
with  a  handsome  and  graceful  person,  and  many  intellectual  quali- 
ties; but  all  these  advantages  were  nullified  by  his  follies  and 
vices.  The  Marquis  de  la  Fare  describes  him  as  being  made  up 
of  contradictions ;  sometimes  witty,  at  others  the  contrary ;  some- 
times dignified  and  brave,  at  others  mean  and  dastardly.  In  the 
annals  of  gallantry  he  seems  to  have  been  ambitious  of  holding  a 
conspicuous  place.  The  most  celebrated  of  his  amorous  adven- 
tures was  his  carrying  off,  aided  by  her  brother,  the  Duke  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Nevers,  the  beautiful  and  frail  Hortensia  Mancini,  who  was  united 
to  the  contemptible  Duke  of  Mazarin.  That  he  gamed  high,  and 
was  careless  of  his  gold,  we  learn  from  an  anecdote  which  is  re- 
lated of  him.  He  had  lost  to  the  king,  at  the  gaming-table,  a  large 
sum,  which  was  to  be  paid  in  louis-d'or.  Rohan  counted  out 
seven  or  eight  hundred,  but,  not  having  enough  of  them,  he  added 
two  hundred  Spanish  pistoles.  Louis  objected  to  the  latter,  upon 
which  the  chevalier  snatched  them  up,  and  threw  them  out  of  the 
window,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "  Since  your  majesty  will  not 
have  them,  they  are  good  for  nothing."  The  king  complained  of 
this  to  Cardinal  Mazarin,  who  replied,  "Sire,  the  Chevalier  de 
Rohan  played  like  a  king,  and  you  played  like  a  Chevalier  de 
Rohan."  This  action  of  Rohan  has  been  praised  as  a  "piquant 
lesson"  to  Louis ;  it  seems,  however,  to  have  been  rather  an  ab- 
surd mode  of  rebuking  the  monarch's  unprincely  conduct. 

Rohan  continued  in  favour  at  court  for  several  years,  and  in 
1656  was  appointed  grand  huntsman  of  France,  an  office  equiva- 
lent to  our  master  of  the  buck-hounds ;  he  was  afterwards  made 
colonel  of  the  guards.  Reserved  in  1654,  1655,  1672,  and  1677, 
and  displayed  great  valour.  The  commencement  of  his  decline 
seems  to  have  been  his  being  obliged  to  give  up  the  office  of  grand 
huntsman,  in  consequence  of  his  amour  with  the  Duchess  of  Ma- 
zarin. His  extravagance  and  profligacy  at  length  ruined  his  for- 
tune and  reputation.  To  repair  his  shattered  finances,  he  engaged 
in  a  plot  at  once  treasonable  and  absurd,  which  completed  the 
destruction  of  his  character,  and  brought  him  to  the  scaffold.  Into 
this  scheme  he  was  seduced  by  Latruaumont,  a  Norman  officer,  a 
man  as  impoverished  and  licentious  as  himself.  Their  accom- 
plices were  Preault,  a  young  officer,  the  Marchioness  of  Villiers- 
Bourdeville,  his  mistress,  and  a  schoolmaster,  named  Van  den 
Enden;  all  of  whom  are  said  to  have  disbelieved  that  the  soul  is 
immortal.  Their  plan  was,  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  Dutch 
the  town  of  Q,uillebo2uf,  in  Normandy,  and  to  excite  the  province 
to  revolt,  for  which  service  they  were  to  be  liberally  rewarded. 
The  magnitude  of  their  project  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
scantiness  of  their  means.  The  conspiracy  was  discovered  by 
the  government,  before  the  conspirators  could  begin  their  opera- 
tions. Rohan  was  committed  to  the  Bastile,  and  M.  de  Brissac 
was  sent  into  Normandy  to  arrest  Latruaumont.  The  latter  de- 
fended himself,  was  mortally  wounded,  and  died  in  a  few  hours. 
He  had  at  least  some  honourable  feelings,  for,  in  order  to  save  his 
confederates,  he  persisted  to  the  last  moment  that  he  was  the  sole 


206  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


criminal.  The  friends  of  Rohan  nightly  made  the  circuit  of  the 
Bastile,  and  vociferated,  through  a  speaking-trumpet,  "Latruau- 
mont  is  dead,  and  has  confessed  nothing."  They  were,  however, 
unheard  by  the  chevalier.  He,  meanwhile,  was  perseveringly 
pressed  to  acknowledge  his  guilt,  but  he  refused;  and,  as  his 
participation  in  the  plot  was  known  only  to  the  deceased,  and  no 
written  proof  existed  against  him,  he  might  have  saved  his  life, 
had  he  not  been  circumvented  by  one  of  those  stratagems  which 
were  employed  against  prisoners.  De  Bezons,  one  of  the  coun- 
selors of  state  who  interrogated  the  captive,  had  the  baseness  to 
assure  him  that  the  king  meant  to  pardon  him  if  he  would  declare 
the  truth,  although  everything  was  already  known  from  the  dying 
avowal  of  Latruaumont.  Trusting  to  the  assurances  of  his  trea- 
cherous adviser,  Rohan  acknowledged  his  treason.  He  soon 
learned  the  deceit  which  had  been  practiced  on  him;  and  he 
burst  into  such  violent  paroxysms  of  rage,  that  his  keepers  were 
compelled  to  manacle  him,  that  he  might  not  lay  violent  hands  on 
himself.  Rohan  and  his  accomplices  were  soon  after  sentenced 
to  death;  they  were  executed  in  front  of  the  Bastile,  on  the  27th 
of  November,  1674.  In  spite  of  her  erroneous  principles,  the 
sufferer  most  worthy  of  pity  was,  perhaps,  Madame  de  Villiers, 
who  displayed  a  noble  fortitude  and  forgiving  spirit.  The  only 
evidence  against  her  was  some  of  her  letters  to  Preault,  which  he 
had  unwisely  preserved.  At  first,  she  uttered  a  few  words  of 
mild  reproof  for  his  fatal  imprudence ;  but  she  quickly  changed 
her  tone,  and  said  with  a  smile,  "We  must  not  think  on  what  is 
passed,  but  only  how  to  die." 

The  same  year  that  consigned  Rohan  to  the  scaffold,  saw  his 
place  in  the  Bastile  filled  by  a  youthful  victim,  who  was  doomed 
to  waste  a  large  part  of  his  life  in  captivity,  for  having  offended  a 
vindictive  and  powerful  religious  body.  His  name  is  not  recorded, 
but  it  is  evident  that  he  was  of  a  good  family. 

Louis  XIV.  was  requested,  by  the  Jesuits  of  Clermont  College, 
to  be  present  at  the  representation  of  a  tragedy  by  their  pupils. 
He  complied,  and  was  highly  gratified  by  the  piece ;  the  more  so, 
perhaps,  as  it  was  thickly  strewn  with  passages  in  praise  of  him. 
A  nobleman  in  attendance  having  spoken  to  him  in  terms  of  ad- 
miration, as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  drama  had  been  played, 
the  king  replied,  "  Where's  the  wonder?  Is  it  not  my  college?" 
These  words  were  not  lost  upon  the  principal  of  the  college,  who 
was  standing  by.  As  soon  as  the  king  was  gone,  the  old  inscrip- 
tion, "  Collegium  Claromontanum  Societati  Jesus"  which  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  207 

on  the  front  of  the  building,  was  taken  down,  and  workmen  were 
all  night  employed  to  inscribe  the  words  "  Collegium  Ludovici 
Magni"  in  gold  letters,  on  a  tablet  of  black  marble. 

In  the  morning  the  new  inscription  was  seen  conspicuously 
displayed  on  the  edifice.  A  youth  of  sixteen,  a  pupil  in  the  col- 
lege, had  the  good  sense  and  the  good  taste  to  be  disgusted  with 
this  worse  than  indecorous  adulation,  and  he  gave  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  a  Latin  distich,  which,  during  the  night,  he  fastened 
on  the  gate.  The  meaning  of  his  lines  may  be  thus  given  : 

"  Christ's  name  expunged,  the  king's  now  fills  the  stone  ; 
0  impious  race  !   by  this  is  plainly  shown 
That  Louis  is  the  only  god  you  own." 

These  pungent  lines  excited  a  violent  clamour  among  the  Jesuits, 
and  no  pains  were  spared  to  trace  the  writer.  The  juvenile 
offender  was  discovered,  and  was  shut  up  in  the  Bastile.  After 
having  been  confined  there  for  a  long  while,  he  was  transferred  to 
the  citadel  of  St.  Marguerite,  on  the  coast  of  Provence.  There  he 
continued  for  several  years ;  after  which  he  was  taken  back  to 
the  Bastile.  One-and-thirty  years  he  passed  in  this  manner,  and 
the  remainder  of  his  life  would  doubtless  have  been  consumed  in 
the  same  way,  had  he  not,  in  1705,  become  sole  heir  to  the 
estates  of  his  family.  The  confessor  of  the  Bastile,  who  was  a 
Jesuit,  now  remonstrated  with  his  brethren  on  the  impolicy  of 
keeping  in  prison  an  individual  from  whom,  by  procuring  his 
release,  they  might  reap  such  a  golden  harvest.  His  advice  was 
taken,  and  the  captive  was  set  free  at  their  intercession.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  their  tardy  and  interested  mercy  received  a 
liberal  reward. 

Among  the  fellow-prisoners  of  the  nameless  satirist  of  the 
Jesuits  was,  for  a  short  time,  another  writer  of  verses,  but  verses 
of  a  very  different  kind.  The  person  in  question  was  Charles 
Dassouci,  who  ludicrously  designated  himself  as  "  Emperor  of 
the  Burlesque,  the  first  of  that  name."  He  was  born  at  Paris, 
about  1604,  and  was  the  son  of  a  barrister.  His  bringing  up,  and 
his  early  habits,  were  not  calculated  to  make  him  an  estimable 
member  of  society.  His  parents  were  separated,  and  the  tyranny 
of  a  female,  who  was  at  once  the  servant  and  the  concubine  of  his 
father,  drove  him  from  his  home.  When  he  was  only  nine  years 
old,  he  wandered  to  Calais,  where  he  passed  himself  off  as  an 
adept  in  astrology,  the  son  of  Cesar,  that  dealer  in  magic  whose 
fate  has  been  narrated  in  the  preceding  chapter.  The  boy  having, 


208  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

by  the  power  of  imagination,  worked  a  cure  upon  a  hypochon- 
driacal  individual,  the  wise  people  of  Calais  considered  this  fact 
to  be  a  decisive  proof  of  his  intercourse  with  the  devil,  and  were 
about  to  throw  him  into  the  sea,  but  he  was  saved  by  some  of  his 
friends,  who  conveyed  him  privately  out  of  the  place.  After 
having  led  a  roving  life  for  some  time,  he  became  player  on  the 
lute,  and  singer  to  Christina,  Duchess  of  Savoy,  the  daughter  of 
Henry  IV.  In  1640,  he  was  introduced  to  Louis  XIII.,  who  gave 
him  the  same  situation  that  he  had  filled  in  the  household  of  the 
duchess,  and  he  was  continued  in  it  during  the  minority  of  Louis 
XIV.  Resolving  to  return  to  Turin,  he  quitted  Paris  in  1655 ; 
but,  before  his  departure  from  the  kingdom,  he  visited  various 
parts  in  the  south  of  France.  He  was  accompanied  everywhere 
by  two  handsome  youths,  called  his  musical  pages ;  his  connec- 
tion with  whom  afforded  to  his  enemies  a  reason,  or  a  pretext,  for 
fixing  a  deep  stain  on  his  moral  character.  Failing  to  obtain 
patronage  at  Turin,  he  went  to  Rome ;  and  there  he  was  put  into 
the  prison  of  the  Inquisition  for  having  satirized  some  powerful 
prelates.  On  being  liberated  he  went  back  to  Paris,  where  he 
was  not  more  fortunate  than  he  had  been  in  Italy,  for  he  was 
committed  to  the  Bastile,  in  1675,  whence  he  was  transferred  to 
the  Chatelet.  To  his  licentious  conduct  and  writings  he  is  said 
to  have  been  indebted  for  his  imprisonment,  which  lasted  six 
months.  He  died  about  1679.  His  principal  works  are,  "  Ovid 
in  Good  Humour,"  which  is  a  travestie  upon  part  of  the  Meta- 
morphoses ;  Claudian's  Rape  of  Proserpine  burlesqued ;  and  many 
poems  in  a  similar  style.  Dassouci,  who  was  sometimes  called 
"  the  ape  of  Scarron,"  received  a  lash  from  the  satirical  scourge 
of  Boileau,  and  he  complained  heavily  of  the  injury.  In  his  Art 
of  Poetry,  Boileau  thus  alludes  to  the  popularity  which  Dassouci 
had  once  enjoyed: 

"  The  scurviest  joker  charmed  some  kindred  mind, 
And  even  Dassouci  could  readers  find." 

It  must  be  owned,  however,  that  in  the  works  of  "the  emperor  of 
burlesque,"  there  are  some  passages  which  prove  that,  though  his 
taste  and  his  morals  were  defective,  he  was  not  destitute  of  talent. 
The  reader  has  seen  that,  with  very  few  exceptions,  the  pris- 
oners who  have  been  mentioned  in  this  chapter  belonged  to  the 
courtier-class  ;  that  they  were  men  who  seemed  to  feel  a  difficulty 
of  breathing  whenever  they  did  not  inhale  the  vapours  of  a  frivo- 
lous and  voluptuous  court.  We  ought  always  to  abhor  injustice, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

and  therefore  we  must  hate  the  power  which  was  unjust  to  them  ; 
but  they  have  no  title  to  that  liberal  share  of  our  pity  which  is  the 
right  of  humbler  victims,  for  it  was  an  implied  condition  of  their 
artificial  existence  that  they  should  bend  to  a  despot's  will ;  they 
purchased  the  smiles  of  their  master,  the  pleasures,  such  as  they 
were,  of  the  Louvre  and  Versailles,  and  a  portion  of  the  public 
spoils,  by  the  renunciation  of  their  free  agency,  and  by  encoun- 
tering the  risk  of  being  capriciously  transferred  from  a  palace  to 
a  dungeon.  If,  relying  on  his  good  luck,  a  man  will  venture  to 
play  with  a  gambler  whom  he  knows  to  assert  the  privilege  of 
now  and  then  cogging  the  dice,  his  folly  perhaps  deserves  more 
compassion  than  his  misfortune. 

Let  us  now  see  in  what  manner  other  classes  were  affected  by 
the  working  of  an  arbitrary  government ;  whether  its  tyranny  was 
impartially  distributed  among  them.  A  few  examples,  taken  be- 
tween the  years  1660  and  1670,  will  enable  us  to  form  a  tolerably 
correct  judgment  upon  this  subject.  Before  we  proceed  to  give 
these  examples,  it  may,  however,  be  well  to  apprise  the  reader, 
that  committals  to  the  Bastile  were  not  things  of  rare  occurrence, 
but  the  contrary.  In  1663,  fifty-four  persons  were  sent  to  that 
dreary  pile ;  in  some  years  the  number  was  fewer ;  in  others  it 
rose  to  nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty.  The  Bastile  was  so  crowded 
in  1665,  that  a  part  of  the  prisoners  were  obliged  to  be  removed 
to  other  places  of  confinement.  It  must,  indeed,  have  been  full 
to  overflowing  before  this  removal  could  have  been  thought  neces- 
sary. Such  being  the  case  with  the  Bastile,  it  is  probable  that 
Vincennes,  and  many  other  state  prisons,  were  in  a  similar 
situation. 

Though,  as  far  as  can  be  judged  from  imperfect  registers,  it 
appears  that  a  large  majority  of  the  persons  incarcerated  in  the 
Bastile  were  the  victims  of  caprice,  malice,  or  religious  and  poli- 
tical persecution,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  many  were  really 
criminal.  Some  instances  of  the  latter  class  occur  in  the  years 
between  1660  and  1670.  The  crime  of  coining,  which  we  have 
seen  so  common  at  an  earlier  period,  was  still  prevalent,  and  was 
still  committed  by  men  who  held  a  respectable  rank  in  society.  In 
1666  twelve  coiners  were  hanged  within  a  fortnight,  and  they  ac- 
cused several  others,  among  whom  was  a  M.  Delcampe,  who  is 
described  as  "  the  celebrated  master  of  an  academy  in  the  suburb 
of  St.  Germain."  He  was  escorted  in  a  carriage  to  the  Bastile  by 
three  companies  of  the  guards,  and  little  more  than  a  week  elapsed 
before  he  was  beheaded.  The  crowd  to  witness  his  execution 
14 


210  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  so  great,  that  many  persons  were  killed  or  wounded  by  being 
pressed  or  trampled  on. 

The  Bastile  was  often  employed  as  an  engine  of  extortion.  To 
contribute  to  the  wants  of  the  state,  or  rather  to  the  prodigalities 
of  the  court,  immense  sums  were  levied  upon  individuals  holding 
offices,  and  upon  contractors,  and  all  who  had  any  concern  with 
the  finances.  It  must,  of  course,  have  been  taken  for  granted  that 
they  had  robbed  the  public;  and  it  could  hardly  have  been  ex- 
pected that  they  would  not  indemnify  themselves,  by  future  pecu- 
lation, for  their  present  loss.  Messat,  a  registrar  of  the  council, 
was  bastiled  for  remonstrating  against  a  demand  of  six  hundred 
thousand  livres  from  himself  and  three  of  his  colleagues.  Catalan, 
a  contractor,  shared  the  same  fate,  and  was  threatened  with  death 
to  boot;  but  after  a  confinement  of  several  months,  he  ransomed 
himself  for  six  millions  of  livres.  From  another  individual  nine 
hundred  thousand  livres,  and  from  three  of  the  treasurers  of  the 
exchequer  several  millions,  were  squeezed  by  this  powerful  in- 
strument. M.  Deschiens,  one  of  M.  Colbert's,  head  clerks,  was 
also  frightened  into  the  payment  of  a  good  round  sum,  by  a  visit 
to  the  Bastile. 

Other  equally  honourable  means  of  raising  money  were  resorted 
to ;  all  of  which  helped  to  fill  the  prisons  as  well  as  the  coffers  of 
the  monarch.  Among  them  were  "  free  gifts,"  once  known  in 
England  under  the  name  of  "  benevolences."  From  the  city  of 
Sens,  for  instance,  twelve  thousand  livres  were  demanded  as  a 
free  gift,  besides  nearly  thrice  as  much  for  the  pay  of  the  gen- 
darmerie. The  citizens  replied  that  they  had  no  money,  but  would 
give  a  thousand  hogsheads  of  excellent  wine.  Whether  the  wine 
was  accepted,  or  whether  any  of  the  citizens  were  imprisoned  for 
the  misdemeanour  of  being  pennyless,  I  cannot  say. 
.  Immense  sums  were  raised  by  the  sale  of  offices.  For  the  title 
of  counselor  of  the  court,  75,000  crowns  were  paid,  and  90,000 
for  a  place  at  the  board  of  exchequer.  Numerous  purchasers 
were  found  at  far  higher  prices.  There  is  perhaps  much  truth  in 
Patin's  sarcastic  remark  on  this  occasion :  "They  must  have  robbed 
at  a  great  rate,"  says  he,  "or  they  would  not  have  so  much  money 
to  squander."  Monopolies  likewise  lent  their  aid  to  replenish  the 
royal  store.  Niceron,  a  grocer,  who  appears  to  have  been  an 
agent,  or  spokesman,  of  the  Parisian  companies  of  tradesmen,  was 
lodged  in  the  Bastile  for  having  ventured  to  remonstrate  against 
a  projected  monopoly  of  whale-oil.  Another  article  of  supply  was 
the  stopping  of  the  annuities  payable  at  the  town  hall;  a  measure 
for  which  we  have  seen  a  precedent  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  B  A  STILE.  211 

Poignant,  a  respectable  citizen  of  Paris,  was  sent  to  the  Bastile 
for  having  spoken  on  this  subject ;  and  a  female,  named  Madame 
de  la  Trousse,  was,  for  the  same  cause,  prohibited  from  going  to 
the  town  hall,  or  to  any  other  meeting,  under  pain  of  corporeal 
punishment!  On  another  occasion,  the  president  le  Lievre  was 
banished  from  Paris,  for  having  made  some  observations  which 
were  unfavourable  to  the  taxes. 

The  money  thus  obtained  was  lavishly  spent  on  the  pomps  and 
amusements  of  the  court.  A  part  was  dissipated  at  the  gaming 
table;  Louis  being  then  a  constant  and  an  unlucky  gamester. 
Theatrical  entertainments  absorbed  another  portion.  The  getting 
up  of  a  single  grand  ballet  is  said  to  have  cost  no  less  than  forty 
thousand  pounds.  Guy  Patin  had  reason  to  exclaim,  "  they  talk 
much  at  the  Louvre  of  balls,  ballets,  and  rejoicings,  but  nothing  is 
said  of  relieving  the  people  who  are  dying  of  such  unexampled 
want,  after  so  great  and  solemn  a  general  peace  has  been  con- 
cluded. O  pudor !  6  mores  !  6  tempora  !" 

But  though,  in  his  private  letters,  Patin  could  venture  to  cen- 
sure profusion  and  exaction,  he  would  soon  have  been  fitted  with 
what  he  somewhere  calls  "a  stone  doublet,"  had  he  dared  to 
breathe  a  word  against  them  in  public.  It  was  dangerous  even 
for  a  barrister  to  perform  faithfully  his  duty  to  a  client.  M.  Burai, 
an  eminent  advocate,  was  committed  to  the  Bastile,  in  1655,  for 
having  undertaken  the  defence  of  Guenegaut,  one  of  the  treasurers, 
who  was  prosecuted  by  the  government. 

The  press  was  completely  muzzled.  We  find  De  Prez,  a  print- 
er, sent  to  the  Bastile,  for  having  printed  a  letter  by  the  Bishop 
of  Aleth,  which  displeased  the  Jesuits ;  a  second  unlucky  typo- 

grapher,  for  offending  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  ;  and  a  third,  named 
oquier,  for  privately  printing  an  answer  to  a  work  of  the  Cheva- 
lier Talon,  who  had  attacked  Coquier's  former  master,  the  super- 
intendent Fouquet.  It  was  a  perilous  task  for  a  man  to  defend 
himself  against  the  minions  of  favour.  The  Journal  des  S^avans 
having  abused vCharles  Patin,  he  was  about  to  reply,  when  it  was 
intimated  to  him  that  if  he  did  not  desist,  the  Bastile  would  receive 
him :  the  journal  happened  to  be  protected  by  M.  Colbert,  the 
minister.  Such  protection  gave  a  decisive  advantage  over  a  less 
fortunate  rival.  The  conduct  of  Renaudot,  the  printer  of  the  Ga- 
zette, affords  a  strong  proof  of  the  tyrannical  use  which  was  made 
of  it.  There  appears  to  have  been  at  this  period  a  sort  of  partner- 
ship, the  members  of  which  gained  a  livelihood  by  compiling  and 
vending  a  manuscript  gazette.  As  the  sale  of  this  paper  dimin- 
ished that  of  his  own,  Renaudot  made  a  bold  attempt  to  get  rid  of 


212  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

his  competitors.  He  is  said  to  have  been  extremely  desirous  that 
they  should  be  hanged  ;  but  his  benevolent  wish  was  not  gratified. 
He  had,  however,  the  satisfaction  of  procuring  seven  of  them  to 
be  sent  to  the  Bastile,  one  of  whom  was  publicly  whipped  through 
the  streets.  Yet  these  measures,  harsh  as  they  were,  did  not 
succeed  in  putting  down  the  manuscript  gazetteers ;  for,  five  years 
afterwards,  six  more  of  them  were  committed  to  prison.  From  its 
long  continuance,  and  the  risks  which  the  traders  were  willing  to 
encounter,  we  may  infer  that  the  trade  was  productive. 

To  have  a  different  opinion  from  the  sovereign,  as  to  the  merit 
of  any  one  whom  he  placed  in  office,  was  a  heavy  offence,  tyf.  de 
Montespan  expiated,  by  imprisonment  in  Fort-1'Eveque,  his  hav- 
ing doubted  the  wisdom  of  choosing  M.  Montausier  as  governor 
to  the  dauphin.  Some  were  thrown  into  the  Bastile  for  impossi- 
ble crimes ;  such  was  the  case  of  Saint  Severin,  a  priest,  who  was 
accused  of  sorcery.  Of  others,  the  fault  and  meaning  of  their 
punishment  are  now  undiscoverable.  With  respect  to  L'Epine, 
a  priest,  for  example,  we  are  only  told  that  he  was  discharged 
from  the  Bastile,  on  condition  of  quitting  Paris  within  twenty-four 
hours,  and  going  to  Egypt.  The  reason  of  this  singular  species 
of  banishment  must  remain  an  enigma. 

One  of  the  instances  in  which  despair  prompted  an  inmate  of 
the  Bastile  to  commit  suicide,  occurred  in  1669,  and  is  recorded 
by  Patin.  "A  state  prisoner,"  says  he,  "  has  poisoned  himself  in 
the  Bastile,  terrified  by  the  punishment  which  could  not  fail  to  be 
inflicted  on  him,  for  having  spoken  very  badly  de  Domino  Priore" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Poisoners. — The  Marchioness  of  Brinvilliers. — Penautier. — La  Voisin  and 
her  accomplices  and  dupes. — The  "  Chambre  Ardente." — The  Countess  of 
Soissons. — The  Duchess  of  Bouillon. — The  Duke  of  Luxembourg. — Stephen 
de  Bray. — The  Abbe  Primi. — Andrew  Morell. — Madame  Guyon.— Courtils 
de  Sandraz. — Constantino  de  Renneville. — The  Man  with  the  Iron  Mask. — 
Jansenists. — Tiron,  Veillant,  and  Lebrun  Desmarets. — The  Count  de  Bucquoy. 
— The  Duke  de  Richelieu. — Miscellaneous  Prisoners. 

IN  the  year  1676,  the  Bastile  received  a  criminal,  whose  guilt 
was  of  the  blackest  dye,  and  who  was  soon  followed  by  a  crowd 
of  imitators,  more  profoundly  wicked,  if  possible,  than  she  herself 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  213 

was.  Poisoning  was  their  crime,  and  the  practice  of  it  became 
so  common,  that  Madame  de  Sevigne  expresses  a  fear  that  in 
foreign  countries,  the  words  Frenchman  and  poisoner  would  be 
considered  as  synonymous. 

Foremost  in  the  dark  catalogue  stands  the  Marchioness  of 
Brinvilliers,  the  daughter  of  Dreux  d'Aubrai,  the  Civil  Lieuten- 
ant. She  was  beautiful,  reserved  in  her  manners,  and  apparently 
devout;  but  her  heart  was  corrupted  to  the  core.  From  her  own 
confession,  it  appears,  that  when  she  was  only  seven  years  old,  she 
had  already  lost  her  maiden  innocence,  and  had  also  set  fire  to  a 
house.  Her  later  years  were  worthy  of  this  beginning.  Between 
1666  and  1670,  she  poisoned  her  father,  two  brothers,  a  sister, 
and  many  of  her  acquaintance.  She  is  said  to  have  administered 
poison  to  her  husband,  though  without  effect ;  and  also,  with  fatal 
success,  to  the  poor,  and  the  sick  in  the  hospitals,  to  whom  she 
gave  biscuits,  in  which  deadly  drugs  were  mixed.  The  latter 
facts  are  denied  by  Voltaire ;  they  are,  however,  positively  af? 
firmed  by  Madame  de  Sevigne. 

The  diabolical  art  which  she  so  widely  practiced  was  learned 
from  St.  Croix,  a  young  officer,  who  was  her  paramour.  He  was 
a  friend  of  her  husband,  who,  in  opposition  to  her  real  or  feigned 
remonstrances,  made  him  an  inmate  of  his  house.  A  criminal 
intimacy  soon  took  place  between  the  wife  and  the  friend.  The 
husband,  a  man  of  dissipated  habits,  seems  to  have  been  regardless 
of  their  intrigue ;  but  her  father  was  so  disgusted  by  its  shameless 
publicity  that  he  obtained  a  lettre-de-cachet,  and  St.  Croix  was 
lodged  in  the  Bastile,  where  he  continued  for  twelve  months. 
There  St.  Croix  was  placed  in  the  same  apartment  with  Exili,  an 
Italian,  who  was  confined  on  suspicion  of  being,  as  he  really  was, 
a  compounder  and  vender  of  poisons.  Exili  taught  St.  Croix  all 
his  detestable  secrets,  and  the  latter  communicated  them  to  the 
marchioness,  who  was  a  willing  scholar. 

St.  Croix  died  suddenly  in  1672,  and,  as  he  had  no  relatives, 
the  government  took  possession  of  his  effects.  Among  them  was 
a  small  box,  which  was  importunately  claimed  by  the  marchioness. 
It  was  opened,  and  found  to  contain  a  note,  desiring  that  it  might 
be  delivered,  without  the  contents  being  disturbed,  to  Madame  de 
Brinvilliers.  The  box  was  filled  with  poisons  of  all  kinds,  some 
of  the  marchioness's  letters  to  him,  and  a  note  of  hand  to  him,  for 
30,000  livres,  bearing  her  signature. 

Disappointed  in  all  attempts  to  gain  possession  of  the  box,  and 
finding  that  suspicion  began  to  fall  heavily  upon  her,  Brinvilliers 
took  flight.  After  having  visited  England,  she  fixed  her  residence 


214  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


at  Liege.  Fresh  presumptions  of  her  guilt  having  arisen,  it  was 
resolved  to  arrest  her.  Desgrais,  the  exempt  of  police,  was  ac- 
cordingly dispatched  to  Liege.  He  disguised  himself  as  an  abbe, 
pretended  to  be  enamoured  of  her,  insinuated  himself  into  her 
good  graces,  and  ultimately  succeeded  in  seizing  the  lady  and  her 
papers,  and  conveying  them  to  Paris. 

Brinvilliers  now  disavowed  all  knowledge  of  the  box  ;  but  it 
was  too  late.  For  a  little  while  her  spirits  deserted  her,  and  she 
made  an  ineffectual  attempt  at  suicide.  She,  however,  soon  rallied 
them,  and  preserved  her  courage  to  the  last.  Among  her  papers 
was  found  a  written  confession  of  the  numerous  crimes  which 
she  had  committed.  To  extort  an  oral  confession,  it  was  resolved 
to  put  her  to  the  ordinary  question,  which  consisted  in  forcing 
down  the  throat  of  the  culprit  an  immense  quantity  of  water. 
When  she  saw  three  buckets  in  the  torture  room,  she  coolly 
observed,  "This  must  be  for  the  purpose  of  drowning  me,  for 
they  can  never  expect  to  make  a  woman  of  my  size  drink  it  all." 
She  was  saved  from  the  trial,  by  making  a  full  avowal  of  her 
misdeeds.  Her  sentence  she  heard  with  an  unaltered  coun- 
tenance. In  the  last  twenty-four  hours  of  her  existence  she  is 
said  to  have  manifested  sincere  penitence.  She  was  beheaded, 
and  her  remains  were  burned,  on  the  16th  of  July,  1676.  It 
will  perhaps  scarcely  be  believed  that,  on  the  morrow,  the  besot- 
ted populace  collected  her  ashes  ;  assigning  as  their  reason  for  so 
doing,  that  she  was  a  saint ! 

With  Brinvilliers  was  implicated  Penautier,  who  held  the 
lucrative  offices  of  treasurer-general  of  the  clergy,  and  of  the 
states  of  Languedoc.  He  was  known  to  be  her  intimate  friend, 
and  was  believed,  apparently  with  reason, to  be  one  of  her  favoured 
lovers.  It  is  asserted,  that  in  the  box  which  was  left  by  St.  Croix, 
there  was  a  packet  of  poison,  addressed  to  Penautier.  That  the 
receiver-general  had  the  reputation  of  making  use  of  such  packets 
is  certain,  and  was  a  subject  of  public  jest.  Cardinal  de  Bonzi, 
Archbishop  of  Narbonne,  who  was  his  strenuous  protector,  used 
to  say  laughingly,  "None  of  those  who  have  pensions  on  my 
benefices  are  long-lived,  for  my  star  is  fatal  to  them  all."  The 
caustic  Abbe  Fouquet  one  day  saw  the  prelate  and  Penautier  in 
a  carriage  together,  and  he  told  everybody  that  he  had  just  met 
Cardinal  de  Bonzi  and  his  star.  Penautier  was  imprisoned,  and 
appears  to  have  been  in  imminent  danger ;  from  which  he  is  said 
to  have  been  extricated  only  by  the  most  powerful  influence,  and 
the  sacrifice  of  half  his  riches. 

Instead  of  operating  as  a  warning,  the  execution  of  the  marchi- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  215 

oness  would  rather  seem  to  have  stimulated  others  to  the  commis- 
sion of  the  horrible  species  of  crime  for  which  she  suffered.  After 
her  death,  poisoning  is  said  to  have  become  prevalent  to  an  ex- 
traordinary degree.  Loud  complaints  arose  from  numbers  of 
families,  members  of  which  were  supposed  to  have  been  taken 
off  secretly  by  their  enemies,  or  by  those  who  were  eager  to  in- 
herit their  riches.  It  was  with  reference  to  the  latter  motive  that 
the  name  of  "powder  of  succession"  was  given  to  the  drug  ad- 
ministered. We  may  believe  that  the  complaints  were  not  un- 
frequently  groundless — for  it  has  always  been  the  practice  of 
weak  minds  to  ascribe  sudden  death  to  poison — but  still,  it  is 
certain  that  there  were  very  many  cases  in  which  the  suspicion 
was  borne  out  by  facts. 

So  general  did  the  clamour  become,  that,  in  January,  1680.  the 
king  issued  an  ordinance,  naming  commissioners,  who  were  to  hold 
their  sittings  at  the  Arsenal,  for  the  purpose  of  trying  poisoners 
and  magicians !  This  commission  is  known  by  the  name  of  la 
Ckambre  Jirdente.  It  has  been  supposed,  that  it  derived  this 
appellation  from  its  being  established  to  take  cognizance  of  crimes 
which  were  punishable  by  fire.  This  appears  to  be  a  mistake; 
the  name  having,  in  old  times,  been  given  to  the  hall  in  which 
criminals  of  high  birth  were  tried,  and  which  was  so  called 
because  it  was  hung  with  black,  and  lighted  with  torches.  The 
same  title  was,  however,  borne  by  a  sort  of  committee,  which 
Francis  II.  instituted  in  each  parliament,  for  the  trial  of  Protest- 
ants, and  which  mercilessly  condemned  them  to  the  flames. 

The  principal  distributor  of  the  poisons,  a  widow,  by  the  name 
of  Monvoisin,  but  who  was  known  under  the  appellation  of  La 
Voisin,  was  already  in  the  Bastile,  with  about  forty  persons 
charged  as  her  accomplices.  The  most  prominent  of  these  sub- 
ordinate culprits  were,  a  female  named  La  Vigoureux,  and  her 
brother,  and  Cceuvrit,  a  priest,  who  was  called  Lesage.  La  Voisin 
was  a  midwife  ;  but  her  profession  not  proving  lucrative,  she  de- 
serted it  for  the  more  profitable  speculation  of  turning  to  account 
the  credulity,  the  folly,  and  at  last  the  vices,  of  mankind.  The 
most  innocent  part  of  her  employment  consisted  in  telling  fortunes 
on  the  cards,  discovering  stolen  goods,  casting  nativities,  and  sell- 
ing charms  and  spells,  to  render  women  beautiful  and  beloved, 
and  men  invulnerable  and  fortunate  !  Her  pretensions  to  super- 
natural skill  did  not  stop  here  ;  for  she  boldly  undertook  to  show 
spirits,  and  even  the  devil  himself,  to  her  dupes.  Such  is  the 
gullibility  of  the  crowd,  whether  of  high  or  low  degree,  that  the 
number  of  her  visitors,  the  majority  of  whom  were  people  of 


216  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


rank,  soon  enabled  her  to  remove  from  a  mean  lodging  into  a 
splendid  mansion,  and  keep  an  equipage  and  a  train  of  attendants. 
That  her  house  was  made  a  convenience  for  the  purposes  of  se- 
duction, and  for  carrying  on  illicit  connections,  there  can  be  no 
doubt ;  many  of  those  who  frequented  it,  of  both  sexes,  being 
notorious  profligates.  The  round  of  La  Voisin's  occupations  was 
completed  by  the  sale  of  poisons  to  those  who  were  desirous  of 
destroying  the  proof  of  incontinence,  taking  vengeance  on  a  rival 
or  an  enemy,  or  getting  rid  of  superannuated  husbands  and  long- 
lived  relatives. 

The  newly  established  tribunal  found  the  whole  of  the  prisoners 
guilty.  All  but  La  Voisin  were  condemned  to  punishments  short 
of  death  ;  to  imprisonment,  exile,  or  the  galleys.  She  alone  was 
sentenced  to  be  burned  alive  on  the  Place  de  Greve,  and  her  ashes 
scattered  to  the  winds.  The  narrative  of  her  last  hours  proves 
that,  to  a  considerable  portion  of  brutal  courage,  or  rather  insensi- 
bility, she  added  the  most  disgusting  sensuality,  vulgarity,  and 
impiety.  When  she  was  informed  of  her  doom,  she  invited  her 
guards  to  have  a  midnight  revel  with  her,  at  which  she  drank 
largely  of  wine,  and  sang  twenty  bacchanalian  songs.  The  next 
evening,  after  having  undergone  the  question,  she  repeated  the 
revel ;  and  when  she  was  told  that  she  had  better  think  on  God, 
and  sing  hymns,  she  sang  two  hymns  in  a  burlesque  style.  On 
the  morning  of  her  execution,  she  was  enraged  at  being  refused 
any  other  food  than  soup.  Before  she  was  placed  in  the  sledge 
she  was  advised  to  confess ;  but  she  obstinately  refused,  and  thrust 
away  from  her  the  confessor  and  the  cross.  At  Notre-Dame,  it 
was  impossible  to  make  her  repeat  the  amende  honorable,  and 
when  she  reached  the  Greve  she  struggled  furiously  against  the 
officers,  and  it  was  not  without  using  force  that  they  could  take 
her  from  the  vehicle,  bind  her,  and  place  her  on  the  pile.  Con- 
sistent to  the  last,  she  several  times  kicked  off  the  straw,  poured 
forth  a  volley  of  oaths,  and  did  not  cease  her  violence  till  the  flames 
deprived  her  of  the  power  of  motion  and  speech. 

Either  with  the  hope  of  obtaining  impunity,  by  implicating  the 
great  and  powerful  in  her  crimes,  or,  which  her  character  renders 
more  probable,  that  she  might  enjoy  the  malignant  delight  of  in- 
volving them  in  her  ruin,  La  Voisin  disclosed  the  names  of  many 
of  the  noblest  personages  of  the  court,  who  had  consulted  her ; 
and  she  stated  circumstances  which  gave  rise  to  terrible  suspi- 
cions against  them.  Among  those  whom  she  thus  dragged  into 
public  view,  were  the  Countess  of  Soissons  and  the  Duchess  of 
Bouillon,  nieces  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  the  Princess  de  Tingri, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  217 


Madame  de  Polignac,  and  the  Duke  of  Luxembourg.  Against 
some  of  the  suspected  or  accused  individuals,  the  Chamber  issued 
warrants ;  others  it  summoned  to  appear,  and  answer  interroga- 
tories. 

The  Countess  of  Soissons,  mother  of  the  celebrated  Prince 
Eugene,  was  a  woman  whose  reputation  was  already  sullied  by 
the  stains  of  political  and  amorous  intrigue.  Among  the  crimes 
which  were  attributed  to  her,  was  the  death  of  her  husband,  who 
died  suddenly  in  1673.  In  her  early  years,  before  he  became 
enamoured  of  her  sister  Mary,  Louis  had  paid  her  some  atten- 
tions. It  was  probably  the  remembrance  of  his  transient  flame 
that  induced  him  to  send  to  the  countess  a  message,  that  if  she 
were  innocent  he  advised  her  to  enter  the  Bastile,  in  which  case 
he  would  befriend  her,  but  that,  if  she  were  guilty,  she  might 
retire  wherever  she  pleased.  She  replied  that  she  was  blameless, 
but  that  she  could  not  endure  imprisonment.  The  countess  im- 
mediately set  off  for  Brussels,  and  she  never  returned  to  France. 
It  would,  however,  be  doing  her  injustice  to  conceal,  that  she 
offered  to  come  back  and  justify  herself,  on  condition  that  she 
should  not  be  confined  while  the  trial  was  pending.  The  condi- 
tion was  not  granted,  and  she  died  in  exile,  in  1708. 

The  Duchess  of  Bouillon,  her  sister,  passed  through  the  ordeal 
more  triumphantly.  There  is  something  amusing  in  the  flippant 
contempt  with  which  she  treated  her  judges.  The  carriages  of 
nine  dukes  went  in  procession  with  her  to  the  Chambre  Ardente, 
into  which  she  was  handed  by  her  husband  and  the  Duke  of 
Vendome.  Before  she  would  take  notice  of  any  question  that 
was  put  to  her,  she  ordered  the  clerk  to  minute  down,  "  that  she 
came  there  solely  out  of  respect  to  the  king's  orders,  and  not  at 
all  to  the  Chamber,  which  she  would  not  recognize,  because  she 
would  not  derogate  from  the  privilege  of  the  ducal  class."  She 
then  answered,  but  with  no  small  disdain,  the  various  questions, 
some  of  which  were,  in  truth,  ridiculous  enough.  Her  reason 
for  going  to  La  Voisin's  house  was,  she  said,  that  she  wished  to 
see  the  Sibyls,  which  that  female  had  promised  to  show  her.  La 
Reynie,  one  of  the  judges,  being  absurd  enough  to  ask  if  she 
had  seen  the  devil,  she  replied  that  she  saw  him  at  that  moment, 
that  he  was  very  ugly  and  filthy,  and  was  disguised  in  the  garb 
of  a  counselor  of  state.  As  she  quitted  the  court,  she  said  aloud, 
that  she  had  never  before  heard  so  many  foolish  speeches  so 
gravely  uttered.  There  being  nothing  more  to  urge  against  her 
than  that  she  had  been  credulous  and  sillily  curious,  no  further 
proceedings  were  taken  by  the  court,  but,  angry  at  her  having 


218  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


made  laughing-stocks  of  his  magistrates,  Louis  sent  her  in  exile 
to  Nerac,  in  the  distant  province  of  Guienne. 

If  in  France  military  talents  of  the  highest  order,  and  important 
services  rendered  to  the  state,  had  possessed  any  protecting  influ- 
ence, Francis  Henry  de  Montmorenci,  Duke  of  Luxembourg, 
would  not  have  been  made  a  prisoner,  and  nearly  a  victim,  by  an 
implacable  and  unprincipled  minister.  Luxembourg  was  the 
posthumous  son  of  that  Bouteville  whom,  in  a  preceding  chapter, 
we  have  seen  consigned  to  the  scaffold  for  the  crime  of  dueling. 
He  was  warmly  patronized  by  the  Princess  of  Conde,  who  placed 
him  as  aide-de-camp  to  her  son.  The  young  Conde  soon  became 
attached  to  him.  At  the  battle  of  Lens,  Bouteville  distinguished 
himself  so  greatly,  that  though  he  was  not  more  than  twenty, 
Anne  of  Austria  made  him  a  major-general. 

During  the  war  of  the  Fronde,  Bouteville  followed  the  fortunes 
of  Conde ;  he  joined  the  Spaniards  with  him,  acquired  in  nume- 
rous encounters  a  well-merited  reputation,  and  finally,  returned  to 
his  allegiance  along  with  his  friend.  There  is  an  anecdote  re- 
corded of  him,  on  the  latter  occasion,  which  is  much  to  his  honour. 
After  Bouteville  had  ceased  to  bear  arms  against  France,  the 
Spanish  monarch  sent  him  60,000  crowns,  as  a  reward  for  his 
services.  He  refused  to  take  the  money ;  "  I  never,"  said  he, 
"considered  myself  in  the  service  of  Spain,  and  will  receive 
favours  only  from  my  own  sovereign."  Soon  after  this,  he  mar- 
ried the  heiress  of  the  house  of  Luxembourg,  by  which  union 
he  gained  a  dukedom,  and  a  splendid  fortune.  If  we  may  believe 
St.  Simon,  rank  and  riches  were  all  that  the  husband  derived 
from  this  match,  the  lady  being  "  frightfully  ugly,  both  in  figure 
and  face,"  and  not  at  all  atoning  for  her  personal  defects  by  in- 
tellectual qualities.  As  far  as  regarded  beauty,  the  pair  had  no 
right  to  reproach  each  other;  for  Luxembourg  himself  had  repul- 
sive features,  a  prominence  on  his  chest,  and  another  behind. 

Between  1667  and  1679,  Luxembourg,  sometimes  commander- 
in-chief,  sometimes  as  second  to  the  great  Conde  and  the  Duke 
of  Orleans,  displayed,  in  Franche  Comte,  Holland  and  Flanders, 
a  degree  of  skill  which  gave  him  a  conspicuous  place  in  the  first 
class  of  generals :  in  fact,  Turenne  having  fallen,  and  Conde  re- 
tired, Luxembourg  had  no  equal  in  France.  The  marshal's  staff 
was  conferred  on  him  in  1675. 

But  neither  the  ancient  descent,  nor  the  high  rank,  nor  the  still 
higher  renown  of  Luxembourg,  was  sufficient  to  shield  him  from 
the  malice  of  his  potent  enemy.  That  enemy  was  Louvois — 
Louvois,  the  perpetual  inciter  of  Louis  to  war,  the  director  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  219 

horrible  crimes  committed  by  the  French  troops  in  Holland,  and 
the  incendiary  of  the  Palatinate.  He  was,  at  one  time,  the  friend 
of  Luxembourg,  but  they  quarreled;  and  he  thenceforth  hated 
him  with  even  a  more  deadly  hatred  than  he  had  cherished 
against  Turenne.  The  affair  of  the  poisoners  seemed  to  afford 
him  an  opportunity,  which  he  eagerly  seized,  of  disgracing,  and 
perhaps,  destroying  the  duke. 

It  was  by  a  credulous  belief  in  the  power  of  pretended  sorcer- 
ers, that  Luxembourg  was  brought  into  peril.  Bonnard,  clerk  to 
one  of  his  lawyers,  had  lost  some  papers,  which  were  indispensa- 
ble to  the  success  of  a  lawsuit  instituted  by  the  duke.  To  re- 
cover them  he  applied  to  Lesage,  one  of  the  confederates  of  La 
Voisin.  Lesage  required  2000  crowns,  and  the  performance  of 
certain  mummeries  by  Bonnard;  and  his  demand  was  granted. 
The  papers  were  then  found  to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  girl  named 
Dupin,  who  refused  to  give  them  up.  A  power  of  attorney  was 
now  obtained  from  the  duke,  by  Bonnard,  authorizing  steps  to  be 
taken  against  Dupin,  to  compel  her  to  resign  the  papers.  This 
he  gave  to  Lesage,  who,  between  the  body  of  the  document  and 
the  signature,  inserted  two  lines,  containing  a  transfer  of  the 
duke's  soul  to  his  Satanic  majesty.  Luckily  the  clumsy  forger 
had  written  these  lines  in  a  hand-writing  quite  different  from  that 
of  the  instrument  itself.  This  compact  with  the  devil  formed 
the  main  proof  against  Luxembourg.  He  appears,  indeed,  to 
have  afforded  a  further  pretext  for  suspicion,  by  his  weakness  in 
applying  to  Lesage  for  the  horoscopes  of  various  individuals. 

It  was  on  this  slender  foundation  that  the  plot  against  him  was 
built.  When  his  name  began  to  be  called  in  question,  he  is  said 
to  have  been  insidiously  counseled  by  Louvois,  to  save  himself 
by  flight.  The  brave  Cavoie,  who  was  his  friend,  proved  him- 
self to  be  so,  by  advising  him  to  surrender  himself  voluntarily  to 
the  Bastile;  and  this  advice  was  wisely  followed  by  the  duke. 
On  his  arrival  there  he  was  placed  in  a  comfortable  chamber,  and, 
on  the  second  day,  he  underwent  a  preliminary  interrogation. 
But  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the  minister  who  had  driven  him 
into  a  prison  that  he  should  enjoy  any  comfort  there;  and  accord- 
ingly, on  the  third  day  he  was  removed  to  one  of  the  filthiest  of 
dungeons,  not  more  than  six  feet  and  a  half  in  diameter,  and  no 
further  notice  was  taken  of  him  for  five  weeks.  He  claimed  his 
privilege,  as  a  peer,  of  being  tried  by  the  parliament,  but  no  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  his  claim,  and  he  was  obliged  to  be  contented 
with  protesting  against  this  denial  of  justice.  It  was  afterwards 
made  a  subject  of  reproach  to  him  by  some  of  the  peers,  that  he 


220  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


had  not  stood  up  with  sufficient  boldness  for  the  rights  of  the 
peerage. 

Luxembourg  remained  for  fourteen  months  in  the  noisome  den 
into  which  Louvois  had  thrown  him.  The  fetid  atmosphere  which 
he  breathed,  the  want  of  exercise,  and  the  disturbed  state  of  his 
mind,  brought  on  a  fit  of  illness,  and  so  much  injured  his  consti- 
tution that  he  never  thoroughly  recovered.  It  must  have  been 
no  small  aggravation  of  his  sufferings,  that  he  was  occasionally 
drawn  forth,  to  be  confronted  with  the  profligate  Lesage,  and 
others  of  the  same  class,  and  to  hear  them  impudently  charge 
him  with  the  foulest'  crimes.  Lesage  maintained  that  the  duke 
had  entered  into  the  compact  with  Satan  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
curing the  death  of  Dupin ;  his  accomplices  added  that  by  his 
order  they  had  murdered  her,  cut  the  body  into  quarters,  and 
thrown  it  into  the  river.  Besides  this  improbable  story,  they 
told  another,  equally  improbable,  that  he  had  given  poisoned  wine 
to  a  brother  of  Dupin,  and  to  a  mistress  whom  that  brother  kept, 
and  had  endeavoured  to  destroy  several  persons  by  means  of 
sorcery.  Their  depositions  may,  indeed,  contest  the  palm  of  ab- 
surdity and  falsehood  with  those  of  Titus  Gates  and  his  perjured 
associates. 

This,  however,  was  not  all.  It  would  seem,  from  their  evi- 
dence, that  the  duke  had  driven  a  hard  bargain  with  the  prince 
of  darkness,  for  they  asserted  that  the  compact  was  designed  not 
only  to  bring  about  the  murder  of  Dupin,  but  also  to  obtain  the 
government  of  a  province  or  a  fortress,  and  the  marriage  of  his 
son  with  the  daughter  of  Louvois.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  Lux- 
embourg has  left  on  record  his  dignified  answer  to  the  last  of 
these  stupid  calumnies.  After  treating  with  ridicule  the  idea 
that  he  would  sell  his  soul  for  a  government,  he  says,  with  respect 
to  the  remainder,  "  I  replied  that  when  the  villain  (Lesage)  told 
such  an  untruth,  he  did  not  know  that  I  was  of  a  family  which 
did  not  purchase  alliances  by  crimes ;  that  it  would  have  been  a 
great  honour  to  me  had  my  son  married  Mdlle.  de  Louvois,  but 
that  I  would  not  have  adopted  for  the  purpose  any  means  which 
would  have  subjected  me  to  self-reproach ;  and  that  when  Mat- 
thew de  Montmorenci  espoused  a  queen  of  France,  the  mother 
of  a  minor  king,  he  did  not  give  himself  to  the  devil  for  this  mar- 
riage, since  the  thing  was  done  by  a  resolution  of  the  States-Gene- 
ral, who  declared  that  to  gain  for  the  monarch  the  services  of  the 
Lords  of  Montmorenci,  it  was  necessary  to  form  this  union.  It 
was  even  out  of  delicacy  that  I  used  the  word  services,  for  I  be- 
lieve that,  in  the  declaration,  the  word  protection  is  used." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Such  testimony  as  was  produced  against  Luxembourg  was  not 
deemed  by  his  judges  sufficient  to  warrant  his  conviction,  even 
though  a  minister  of  state  was  eager  for  his  ruin.  He  was,  in 
consequence,  set  free  on  the  14th  of  May,  1680.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  duke's  acquittal,  Louis  banished  him  from  the  court,  and 
he  remained  in  exile  till  the  summer  of  1681,  when  he  was  re- 
called, and  resumed  his  duties  as  captain  of  the  body-guards.  It 
is  somewhat  remarkable  that  Louis  never  made  the  slightest  allu- 
sion to  what  had  passed. 

For  ten  years,  Luxembourg  remained  without  a  command.  In 
1690,  however,  Louis  himself  placed  him  at  the  head  of  the  army 
in  Flanders.  Luxembourg  had  scarcely  taken  the  field,  before  he 
gained  the  splendid  victory  of  Fleurus.  The  fall  of  Namur,  or 
of  Charleroi,  would  probably  have  been  the  result  of  this  success, 
had  he  not  been  thwarted  by  the  malignant  Louvois,  who  forbade 
his  besieging  either  of  those  fortresses,  and  deprived  him  of  the 
best  part  of  his  army,  to  reinforce  Boufflers.  In  the  succeeding 
campaigns,  Luxembourg  pursued  his  triumphant  progress,  and 
won  the  battles  of  Leuze,  Steenkirk,  and  Neerwinden.  Such  a 
number  of  standards  were  taken,  and  sent  to  be  hung  up  in  the 
cathedral  of  Notre-Dame,  at  Paris,  that  the  Prince  of  Conti  wittily 
denominated  him  "the  tapestry-hanger  of  Notre-Dame."  Irri- 
tated by  his  defeats,  William  III.  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  "Am 
I  never  to  beat  that  hunchback?"  "Hunchback!"  said  the  duke 
when  he  was  told  of  this  speech,  "what  does  he  know  about  it? 
He  has  never  seen  my  back !"  The  career  of  Luxembourg  was 
abruptly  closed,  by  an  illness  of  only  five  days,  on  the  4th  of 
January,  1695. 

Several  persons  of  distinction  were  censured  by  the  "Chambre 
Ardente,"  and  were,  in  consequence,  forbidden  the  court,  or  sent 
into  exile.  Among  the  latter  was  Madame  de  Polignac.  The 
monarch  was  so  decidedly  hostile  to  her,  that,  five  years  after- 
wards, he  spoke  of  her  with  unmeasured  severity,  and  interfered 
to  prevent  the  marriage  of  her  son  with  Mdlle.  de  Rambures.  It 
was  said,  that  she  had  once  formed  the  scheme  of  giving  him  a 
philtre,  to  inspire  him  with  a  passion  for  her. 

One  of  the  humbler  class  of  culprits  who  was  imprisoned  in  the 
Bastile,  and  who  finally  suffered  the  extreme  sentence  of  the  law, 
was  Stephen  de  Bray,  described  as  the  accomplice  of  James  De- 
chaux  and  Jane  Chanfrain,  who  were  perhaps  rivals  of  La  Voisin 
and  her  confederates  in  their  detestable  trade.  The  crimes  al- 
leged against  him  were  blasphemy,  sacrilege,  and  poisoning,  and 
he  was  burned  at  the  Greve. 


222  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

From  poisoners,  and  mercenary  pretenders  to  sorcery,  we  turn 
to  an  adventurer  of  a  less  noxious  species.  The  abbe  Primi  was 
a  native  of  Bologna,  in  which  city  his  father  was  a  cap-maker. 
He  had  acuteness,  wit,  and  a  pleasing  person,  and  with  these 
mental  and  corporeal  qualities  he  hoped  to  make  his  way  at  Paris. 
On  his  journey  thither  he  became  acquainted  with  a  man  of  talent, 
named  Duval.  One  of  the  travelers  in  the  coach  smelt  so  offen- 
sively that  the  others  were  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him;  and  accord- 
ingly Duval  and  Primi  secretly  concerted  a  scheme  for  that  pur- 
pose. Primi  was  to  pretend  to  the  gift  of  foretelling,  from  only 
seeing  a  person's  hand-writing,  what  had  happened  and  would 
happen  to  him.  Primi,  being  questioned  by  Duval  on  this  head, 
gave  him  elaborate  answers,  which  the  latter  admitted  to  be  cor- 
rect. Specimens  of  the  penmanship  of  the  rest  of  the  travelers, 
who  were  in  the  plot,  were  then  handed  to  Primi,  and  of  course 
they  were  satisfied  with  the  result.  The  obnoxious  passenger  at 
length  begged  the  oracular  Italian  to  do  for  him  the  same  favour 
that  he  had  done  for  the  rest.  When  Primi  looked  at  the  paper, 
he  pretended  to  be  shocked,  and  hastily  gave  it  back,  declining  to 
say  more  than  that  "he  hoped  he  was  mistaken."  The  appli- 
cant, however,  solicited  so  earnestly  to  know  his  fate,  that  Primi 
told  him  he  was  destined  to  be  assassinated  at  Paris,  if  he  went 
thither.  This  startling  intelligence  produced  the  designed  effect; 
the  strong-scented  querist  took  the  first  opportunity  to  discontinue 
his  journey,  and  return  to  his  home. 

When  they  reached  Paris,  Duval  presented  Primi  to  the  Abbe 
de  la  Baume,  who  was  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Embrun;  and 
the  abbe  introduced  him  to  the  Duke  of  Vendome,  and  his  brother, 
the  Grand  Prior.  The  trick  played  off  in  the  stage  was  talked 
over,  and  it  was  agreed  that  a  repetition  of  it  in  the  French  capital 
would  be  productive  of  infinite  amusement.  Primi  was  therefore 
kept  carefully  secluded,  for  nearly  two  months,  till  he  had  learned 
by  heart  the  genealogy  and  the  secret  history  of  most  of  the  per- 
sons about  the  court.  When  he  had  obtained  a  thorough  know- 
ledge of  their  connections,  amours,  rivalships,  enmities,  and  pre- 
sumed motives,  his  skill  in  his  novel  kind  of  divination  was  spread 
about  by  his  employers,  and  all  the  rank  and  fashion  of  France 
soon  flocked  to  consult  him.  Among  the  distinguished  females 
who  patronized  him,  were  the  Countess  of  Soissons  and  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans ;  the  latter  of  whom  Primi  firmly  convinced 
of  his  powers,  by  mentioning  many  circumstances  relative  to  her 
correspondence  with  the  Count  de  Guiche.  The  duchess  pre- 
vailed on  Louis  XIV.  to  let  her  show  his  hand-writing  to  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  223 

Italian.  To  her  utter  astonishment,  Primi  no  sooner  saw  it  than 
he  declared  it  to  be  written  by  a  miserly  curmudgeon,  who  was 
not  possessed  of  a  single  good  quality.  When  she  returned  the 
paper  to  Louis,  and  told  him  what  Primi  had  said,  the  king  was 
no  less  astonished  than  she  was.  The  paper  was  indeed  written 
by  a  man  of  whom  his  enemies  spoke  in  the  same  manner  as 
Primi.  It  was  the  hand-writing  of  Rose,  the  king's  cabinet  secre- 
tary, who  wrote  exactly  like  Louis,  and  whom  he  often  employed 
to  answer  letters,  that  he  might  himself  avoid  trouble.  To  get  at 
the  bottom  of  this  mystery,  the  king  ordered  Primi  to  be  brought 
into  his  cabinet.  "Primi,"  said  the  monarch,  "I  have  only  two 
words  to  say — disclose  to  me  your  secret,  for  which  I  will  pay  you 
with  a  pension  of  two  thousand  livres — or  else  make  up  your 
mind  to  be  hanged."  There  was  no  resisting  the  bribe  and  the 
threat,  and  Primi  consequently  related  his  own  history,  and  all 
that  had  come  to  his  knowledge  since  he  had  lived  in  the  capital. 
On  going  into  the  queen's  apartment,  Louis  mentioned,  before  the 
courtiers,  that  he  had  admitted  Primi  to  an  interview,  and  he 
added,  "I  must  acknowledge  that  he  told  me  things  which  no 
being  of  his  kind  has  ever  before  revealed  to  any  one."  This 
strong  testimony  to  the  merit  of  Primi  contributed  not  a  little  to 
enhance  his  reputation. 

The  pension  granted  to  him  by  Louis  placed  Primi  above  the 
necessity  of  resorting  to  deception  for  a  livelihood ;  nor,  indeed, 
was  the  part  which  he  had  been  playing  one  which  could  be  car- 
ried on  for  any  length  of  time.  He  married  the  daughter  of 
Frederic  Leonard,  an  eminent  Parisian  printer,  and  sought  to  gain 
reputation  by  chronicling  the  actions  of  the  French  monarch.  In 
an  Italian  narrative,  which  he  wrote,  of  the  Dutch  campaign  of 
Louis,  he  divulged  the  secret  of  the  private  treaty  between  that 
monarch  and  our  Charles  II.  For  this  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile; 
but  he  was  soon  released,  and  received  an  ample  present.  The 
publication  is  believed  to  have,  in  fact,  been  authorized  by  the 
king,  to  punish  the  defection  of  Charles;  the  imprisonment  of  the 
author  being  merely  a  blind,  to  prevent  his  master  from  being 
suspected. 

Louvois,  who  will  for  ever  be  infamously  remembered  for  his 
outrages  upon  humanity,  was  the  tyrant  who  twice  consigned  to 
the  Bastile  the  celebrated  medalist,  Andrew  Morell.  Berne  was 
the  native  place  of  Morell,  who  was  born  in  1640.  He  was  re- 
markable for  his  memory  and  acuteness.  The  study  of  history 
led  him  to  that  of  numismatics,  in  which  he  made  an  almost  un- 
equaled  progress;  and  he  learned  drawing, in  order  to  render  his 


224  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

medallic  knowledge  more  perfect  and  available.  Charles  Patin, 
the  son  of  Guy,  then  an  exile  from  France,  who  was  himself  no 
mean  numismatist,  became  acquainted  with  Morell,  and  aided  him 
by  his  counsel  and  purse.  It  was  probably  by  his  advice  that,  in 
1680,  Morell  visited  Paris,  where  he  met  with  a  warm  reception 
from  the  most  distinguished  men  of  learning  and  science.  En- 
couraged by  them,  he  undertook  the  laborious  task  of  publishing 
a  description  of  all  the  antique  medals  which  were  contained  in 
the  numerous  cabinets  of  Europe.  As  a  prelude,  he  gave  a 
specimen  to  the  world.  But  his  scheme  was  interrupted,  for  the 
moment,  by  a  circumstance  which  would  ultimately  have  benefited 
it,  had  he  not  been  ungenerously  treated.  He  was  appointed 
coadjutor  of  Rainssart,  the  keeper  of  the  king's  medals.  In 
assiduously  arranging  and  reducing  to  order  the  vast  collection 
which  was  placed  under  his  care,  he  spent  several  years.  When 
he  claimed  his  promised  reward  it  was  withheld,  and,  on  his  ven- 
turing to  resent  this  breach  of  faith,  he  was  committed  to  the 
Bastile,  in  1688,  by  Louvois.  His  friends  obtained  his  release; 
but,  in  little  more  than  twelve  months,  he  was  again  immured  in 
that  prison,  probably  for  the  same  reason  as  before.  Yet,  while 
he  was  thus  persecuted  by  an  arrogant  minister,  he  continued  to 
enjoy  the  esteem  of  Louis  XIV.;  a  curious  fact,  which  proves 
how  strong  was  the  influence  of  Louvois  over  his  master.  While 
he  was  in  the  Bastile,  his  colleague  died,  and  he  was  offered  the 
vacant  place  of  sole  keeper  of  the  king's  cabinet,  on  condition  that 
he  would  change  his  religion.  Morell,  however,  rejected  the 
offer. 

It  was  not  till  1691,  nor  till  the  government  of  Berne  had  inter- 
fered in  his  behalf,  that  Morell  was  set  free.  Disgusted  with  the 
treatment  which  he  had  experienced,  he  returned  to  his  native 
country.  His  subsequent  existence  was  embittered  by  severe 
bodily  suffering.  His  health  was  so  much  injured  by  confine-^ 
ment,  and  by  vexation  at  his  favourite  project  being  frustrated, 
that  palsy  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  one  side,  and  rendered  him 
incapable  of  handling  pen  or  pencil.  He  was  somewhat  recov- 
ered, and  had  acquired  the  patronage  of  the  Count  of  Schwartzen- 
burg-Armstadt,  a  lover  of  medals,"when  he  was  overturned  in  a 
carriage,  and  one  of  his  shoulders  dislocated.  This  accident 
brought  on  another  attack  of  palsy,  to  which  he  fell  a  victim  in 
1703.  The  materials  for  his  unfinished  work  were  arranged 
and  published  by  Havercamp,  in  1734,  with  the  title  of  "  Thesau- 
rus Morellianus."  Another  of  his  works,  a  "  Numismatic  History 
of  the  Twelve  Emperors,"  was  given  to  the  public,  in  1753,  by 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  225 

Hevercamp,  Schlegel,  and  Gori,who  overlaid  it  with  a  ponderous 
mass  of  confused  and  discordant  commentaries. 

The  doctrines  of  Quietism,  the  origin  of  which  may  be  traced 
to  oriental  climes,  but  of  which  a  Spanish  monk,  Michael  Molinos, 
was  the  European  apostle,  and  finally  the  victim,  were  espoused 
by  one  of  the  most  amiable  of  the  French  enthusiasts,  and  they 
brought  on  her,  as  they  had  brought  on  him,  calumny,  persecu- 
tion, and  imprisonment.  Madame  Guyon,  whose  maiden  name 
was  Bouvier  de  la  Motte,  was  born  at  Montargis,  in  1648.  Even 
in  very  early  youth  she  had  a  strong  tendency  to  mysticism,  and 
would  have  adopted  a  monastic  life  had  her  parents  not  prevented 
her.  At  sixteen  she  was  married;  at  eight-and-twenty  she  be- 
came a  widow.  The  visionary  ideas  which  she  had  cherished 
before  marriage  now  resumed  their  empire,  and  a  powerful 
stimulus  was  given  to  them  by  her  confessor,  and  by  the  titular 
Bishop  of  Geneva,  and  other  ecclesiastics,  all  of  whom  laboured 
to  fill  her  with  the  belief  that  Heaven  had  destined  her  to  play  an 
extraordinary  part  for  the  advancement  of  religion.  "  Left  a 
widow  when  she  was  still  tolerably  young,"  says  Voltaire,  "with 
riches,  beauty,  and  a  mind  fitted  for  society,  she  became  infatuated 
with  what  is  called  spiritualism.  A  monk  of  Anneci,  near  Ge- 
neva, named  Lacombe,  was  her  director.  This  man,  character- 
ized by  a  not  uncommon  mixture  of  passions  and  religion,  and 
who  died  mad,  plunged  the  mind  of  his  penitent  into  the  mystic 
reveries  by  which  it  was  already  affected.  The  longing  desire 
to  be  a  French  St.  Theresa  did  not  allow  her  to  perceive  how  dif- 
ferent the  French  character  is  from  the  Spanish,  and  made  her  go 
much  further  than  St.  Theresa.  The  ambition  of  having  disci- 
ples, which  is,  perhaps,  the  strongest  of  all  kinds  of  ambition, 
took  entire  possession  of  her  heart."  In  ascribing  such  a  motive 
to  Madame  Guyon,  Voltaire  does  her  wrong,  there  not  being  a 
shadow  of  a  reason  for  supposing  that  she  was  actuated  by  any- 
thing but  a  sincere  though  erroneous  belief,  that  she  was  fulfilling 
a  solemn  duty.  He  is  more  correct  in  the  description  which  he 
gives  of  her  doctrines.  "  She  taught  a  complete  renunciation  of 
self,  the  silence  of  the  soul,  the  annihilation  of  all  its  faculties,  in- 
ternal worship,  and  the  pure  and  disinterested  love  of  God,  which 
is  neither  degraded  by  fear,  nor  animated  by  the  hope  of  reward." 
It  must  be  owned  that,  both  in  language  and  ideas,  she  often  fell 
into  enormous  absurdity,  in  her  efforts  to  explain  and  enforce  these 
doctrines. 

For  five  years  Madame  Guyon  wandered  through  Piedmont, 
Dauphiny,  and  the  adjacent  provinces,  spreading  her  opinions  by 
15 


226  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


the  press  as  well  as  by  oral  communication.  As  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, she  made  many  ardent  proselytes,  and  not  a  few  enemies. 
In  1686  she  returned  to  Paris,  and  continued  her  labours,  and  was 
left  unmolested  for  two  years.  At  length  she  attracted  the  notice 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  who  affected  to  be  shocked  at  the  re- 
semblance which  her  tenets  bore  to  those  of  Molinos.  The  see  of 
Paris  was  at  that  time  filled  by  Harlay  de  Charrvvallon,  an  indi- 
vidual infamously  celebrated  for  his  profligate  debauchery.  This 
prelate,  who  certainly  was  not  likely  to  comprehend  a  pure  and 
disinterested  love  of  God,  or  of  man  or  woman  either,  procured 
Lacombe  to  be  sent  to  the  Bastile  as  a  seducer,  and  Madame 
Guyon  to  the  Visitandines  convent.  At  the  Visitandines  she  was 
generally  beloved,  and  made  several  converts.  She  was  soon  after 
snatched  from  the  clutches  of  Harlay  by  Madame  deMaintenon,who 
admitted  her  at  St.  Cyr,  and  became  much  attached  to  her.  It 
was  at  St.  Cyr  that  she  was  also  introduced  to  Fenelon  ;  a  friend- 
ship took  place  between  them  which  nothing  could  ever  shake. 

But  though  Fenelon  continued  true  to  his  friend,  Madame  de 
Maintenon  ultimately  des'erted  her.  This  desertion  was  the  work 
of  Godet-Desmarais,  Bishop  of  Chartres,  who  was  the  religious 
director  of  St.  Cyr  and  of  Madame  de  Maintenon.  The  mind  of 
the  king  was  also  poisoned  against  her ;  and  she  was  exposed  to 
a  long  series  of  persecutions,  not  the  least  painful  of  which  was  a 
slanderous  attack  on  her  character,  made  in  the  form  of  a  letter 
from  Lacombe,  exhorting  her  to  repent  of  their  criminal  intimacy. 
Lacombe  was  then  insane.  So  irreproachable,  however,  was  her 
conduct,  that  her  innocence  was  universally  acknowledged. 

In  1695  she  was  sent  to  Vincennes,  whence  she  was  removed 
to  the  Bastile ;  but  she  was  released  through  the  intervention  of 
Noailles,  who  had  succeeded  the  shameless  Harlay  in  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Paris.  In  1698  she  was  again  immured  in  the  Bas- 
tile, arid  was  not  liberated  till  1702.  After  her  liberation,  she  was 
exiled  to  Blois,  where,  for  fifteen  years,  her  patience,  piety,  and 
charity,  were  admired  by  every  one.  She  died  in  1717,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-nine. 

Influenced  by  prejudice,  Voltaire  has  been  unjust  to  Madame 
Guyon ;  he  denies  that  she  possessed  talent,  and  sneeringly  says, 
that  "she  wrote  verses  like  Cotin,  and  prose  like  Punchinello." 
This  is  not  the  first  time  that  truth  has  been  sacrificed  for  the  sake 
of  giving  an  epigrammatic  turn  to  a  sentence.  To  the  opinion 
of  Voltaire  may  be  opposed  that  of  the  shrewd  Duke  of  St.  Simon, 
which  is  very  different.  Nor  is  it  probable  that  Fenelon  would 
have  held  in  high  estimation  a  mere  senseless  enthusiast.  That 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  227 

in  her  writings,  which  extend  to  nine-and-thirty  volumes,  much 
erroneous  reasoning,  mystic  jargon,  and  even  nonsense,  may  be 
found,  admits  of  no  dispute ;  but  they  also  contain  many  fine 
sentiments  strikingly  expressed.  That  she  was  endowed  with  a 
prevailing  eloquence  appears  to  be  undeniable.  There  is  an 
anecdote  recorded  of  her  which  proves,  likewise,  that  in  the  com- 
mon business  of  life  she  was  possessed  of  a  large  share  of  pene- 
tration and  sound  sense.  She  was  chosen  as  sole  umpire  in  a 
cause  in  which  she  and  twenty-two  of  her  relations  were  interested. 
After  thirty  days'  close  investigation  of  the  documents  and  claims, 
she  drew  up  an  award,  which  received  the  prompt  and  full  appro- 
bation of  all  the  contending  parties.  It  may  be  doubted,  whether 
there  have  been  many  arbitrators  who  have  given  such  universal 
satisfaction  as  Madame  Guyon. 

About  the  time  that  Madame  Guyon  was  released  from  the 
Bastile,  that  prison  became  the  abode  of  Gatien  de  Courtils  de 
Sandraz,  a  fertile  writer,  but  whose  productions  are,  for  the  most 
part,  of  a  class  which  merits  censure  rather  than  praise.  This 
author,  a  Parisian,  born  in  1644,  must  be  reckoned  among  those  who 
poison  the  sources  of  history.  "He  was,"  says  Voltaire,  "one  of 
the  most  culpable  writers  of  this  kind.  He  inundated  Europe 
with  fictions  under  the  name  of  histories."  Many  of  those  fictions 
profess  to  be  written  by  persons  who,  during  the  reigns  of  Louis 
XIII.  and  Louis  XIV.,  had  borne  a  part  in  affairs  of  state  and  court 
intrigues.  More  than  forty  volumes  of  memoirs  of  this  sort,  biog- 
raphies, romances,  and  political  tracts,  were  produced  by  his  inde- 
fatigable pen.  He  was  originally  a  captain  in  the  regiment  of 
Champagne,  but  went  to  Holland  in  1683,  and  staid  in  that  country 
for  five  years.  It  was  while  he  was  there  that  he  gave  some  of 
his  earliest  works  to  the  press.  In  1689,  the  partiality  which  he 
manifested  on  the  side  of  France  occasioned  him  to  be  sent  out  of 
the  Dutch  territory,  and  he  went  to  Paris,  where  he  continued  till 
1694.  He  then  returned  to  Holland,  where  he  continued  for 
eight  years.  In  1702,  he  went  back  to  his  native  land,  but  his 
reception  was  calculated  to  make  him  regret  having  done  so.  He 
was  immediately  sent  to  the  Bastile,  where  he  languished  for  nine 
years,  during  the  first  three  of  which  he  was  very  harshly  treated. 
His  offence  is  not  known ;  but  his  Annals  of  Paris  and  the  Court, 
in  which  he  attacked  the  character  of  some  powerful  personages, 
are  conjectured  to  have  been  the  cause  of  his  imprisonment.  His 
decease  took  place  in  1712. 

Of  those  who  suffered  in  the  Bastile  very  few  indeed  revealed 
to  the  world  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house.  The  first  who  dis- 


228  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


closed  them  was  Rene  Augustus  Constantino  de  Renneville,  a 
Norman  gentleman,  who  was  born  at  Caen,  in  1650.  De  Renne- 
ville was  the  youngest  of  ten  brothers,  seven  of  whom  fell  in  the 
service  of  their  country.  After  having  borne  arms  in,  and  retired 
from,  the  mousquetaires,  he  was  patronized  by  Chamillart,  one  of 
the  ministers,  who  employed  him  in  various  confidential  affairs, 
and  rewarded  him  with  a  respectable  and  lucrative  office  in  Nor- 
mandy. De  Renneville  passed  several  years  in  his  native  pro- 
vince, filling  up  by  literary  pursuits  his  intervals  of  leisure  from 
his  official  duties.  The  persecution  of  the  Protestants,  of  whom 
he  was  one,  drove  him,  in  1699,  into  Holland.  Being,  however, 
unable  to  find  there  a  satisfactory  establishment  for  his  family,  he 
yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  Chamillart,  and  returned,  in  1702, 
to  France.  The  minister  received  him  with  open  arms,  gave  him 
a  pension,  and  promised  him  the  first  place  that  might  become 
vacant  in  his  own  department.  But  the  scene  soon  changed. 
Envy  was  excited  by  the  reception  which  he  had  met  with,  and 
it  quickly  found  or  made  the  means  of  crushing  him.  Some  years 
before,  in  a  splenetic  mood,  he  had  written  some  bouts  rimes, 
which  were  by  no  means  complimentary  to  France.  As,  however, 
this  would  hardly  authorize  a  heavy  punishment,  he  was  accused 
of  being  a  spy,  and  of  keeping  up  a  correspondence  with  foreign 
powers.  In  consequence  of  this  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile,  in 
May,  1702.  He  was  placed  in  a  wretched  chamber,  dirty,  gloomy, 
and  swarming  with  fleas,  and  his  bed  was  overrun  with  vermin  of  a 
more  disgusting  kind.  He  was  nevertheless  tolerably  well  treated 
by  his  gaolers  till  after  the  escape  of  Count  de  Bucquoy,  in  which  he 
was  supposed  to  have  assisted.  On  this  supposition  he  was  thrown 
into  one  of  the  worst  dungeons  of  the  fortress,  where  he  remained 
till  life  was  nearly  extinct.  He  tells  us  that  his  only  sustenance 
was  bread  and  water,  and  that  his  sleeping  place  was  the  bare 
ground,  where,  without  straw,  or  even  a  stone  to  lay  his  head  on, 
he  lay  stretched  in  the  mire,  and  the  slaver  of  the  toads.  His 
situation  when  he  was  taken  out  was  pitiable.  "  My  eyes,"  says 
he,  **  were  almost  out  of  my  head ;  my  nose  was  as  large  as  a  mid- 
dling-sized cucumber;  more  than  half  my  teeth,  which  previously 
were  very  good,  had  fallen  out  by  scurvy ;  my  mouth  was  swelled, 
and  entirely  covered  with  an  eruption,  and  my  bones  came  through 
my  skin  in  more  than  twenty  places."  His  captivity  lasted  for 
some  years  after  his  removal  from  the  dungeon,  and  although  he 
was  not  again  reduced  to  the  same  degree  of  misery,  he  was 
treated  with  much  harshness.  He  bore  his  misfortune  with 
courage,  and  solaced  his  lonely  hours  by  reading  and  composition. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  229 

His  pen  was  a  small  bone,  his  ink  was  lampblack  mixed  with 
wine,  and  he  wrote  between  the  lines,  and  on  the  margins,  of  books 
which  he  had  concealed.  Under  these  disadvantages,  he  com- 
posed several  works  of  considerable  length.  Among  these  works 
was  a  "Treatise  on  the  Duties  of  a  Faithful  Christian."  They 
were  taken  away  from  him  by  his  persecutors,  and  he  deeply 
regretted  the  loss  of  them.  After  having  been  confined  for  eleven 
years,  he  was  set  at  liberty ;  but  was  ordered  to  quit  France  forever. 
It  would  have  been  strange  had  he  wished  to  remain  there.  De 
Renneville  sought  an  asylum  in  England,  where  George  I.  gave 
him  a  pension ;  and  in  1715  he  published  his  "French  Inquisition, 
or  the  History  of  the  Bastile,"  which  went  through  three  or  four 
editions,  and  was  translated  into  various  languages.  It  was  pro- 
bably at  the  instigation  of  those  who  were  branded  in  this  book, 
that  he  was  attacked  in  the  street  by  three  cut-throats,  whom, 
however,  he  bravely  repulsed.  De  RennevilJe  was  living  in 
1724;  but  the  time  and  place  of  his  decease  are  not  known. 
Among  his  works  is  a  Collection  of  Voyages  for  the  Establish- 
ment, &c.,  of  the  Dutch  East  India  Company. 

The  next  prisoner  comes  before  us  wrapped  in  such  a  mysteri- 
ous cloud,  that  he  scarcely  seems  to  wear  the  aspect  of  a  being  of 
this  world.  His  birth,  his  name,  his  country,  his  crime,  are  all 
unknown ;  all  that  we  really  know  of  him  is,  that  he  was  long  a 
captive,  and  that  he  died.  It  cannot  be  necessary  to  say,  that  the 
problematical  individual  alluded  to  is  the  personage  who  is  dis- 
tinguished by  the  appellation  of  "  The  Man  with  the  Iron  Mask." 

There  appears  to  have  been  in  France,  during  the  first  forty 
years  of  the  18th  century,  a  sort  of  indistinct  tradition  respecting 
a  masked  prisoner,  who  had  been  in  various  state  prisons.  It  was 
not,  however,  till  1745  that  any  attempt  was  made  to  lift  the  veil 
which  covered  the  subject.  In  that  year  came  out  "Memoires 
Secrets  pour  servir  a  PHistoire  de  Perse,"  in  which  French  cha- 
racters were  described  under  oriental  names.  In  these  memoirs, 
which  have  been  ascribed  to  several  writers,  among  whom  is  Vol- 
taire, some  particulars  are  given  relative  to  the  masked  man,  and  he 
is  asserted  to  have  been  the  Count  de  Vermandois,  natural  son  of 
Louis  >XIV.,  confined  by  his  father  for  having  struck  the  dauphin. 

The  memoirs  gave  rise  to  a  controversy,  and  to  an  extravagant 
romance  by  the  Chevalier  de  Mouhy ;  but  nothing  definite  was 
brought  forward  till  1751,  when  Voltaire  published,  under  a 
feigned  name,  the  first  edition  of  his  "Age  of  Louis  XIV." 
Here  he  threw  a  ray  of  light  on  a  part  of  the  question,  leaving, 
however,  the  rest  in  as  much  darkness  as  ever. 


230  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

"  Some  months  after  the  decease  of  this  minister  (Mazarin)  there 
happened,"  says  he,  "an  event  which  has  no  parallel,  and  what 
is  no  less  singular  is,  that  all  the  historians  have  been  ignorant  of 
it.  There  was  sent,  with  the  utmost  secrecy,  to  the  castle  of  the 
Isle  of  St.  Margaret,  on  the  coast  of  Provence,  an  unknown  pri- 
soner, above  the  common  stature,  young,  and  of  a  most  handsome 
and  noble  figure.  During  the  journey,  this  prisoner  wore  a  mask, 
the  lower  half  of  which  had  steel  springs,  which  allowed  him  to 
eat  while  the  mask  was  on  his  face.  Orders  were  given  to  kill 
him  if  he  uncovered  himself.  He  remained  in  the  Isle  till  a  con- 
fidential officer,  of  the  name  of  St.  Marc,  governor  of  Pignerol, 
having  been  made  governor  of  the  Bastile  in  1690,  went  to  the 
Isle  of  St.  Margaret  to  fetch  him,  and  conducted  him  to  the  Bas- 
tile, always  masked.  The  Marquis  de  Louvois  went  to  see  him 
in  that  Isle  before  his  removal,  and  spoke  to  him  standing,  and 
with  a  deference  which  bordered  on  respect.  This  unknown 
personage  was  taken  to  the  Bastile,  where  he  was  lodged  as  com- 
fortably as  it  was  possible  to  be  in  that  fortress.  Nothing  that  he 
asked  for  was  refused.  His  predominant  taste  was  for  linen  of 
extreme  fineness,  and  for  lace.  He  played  on  the  guitar.  His 
table  was  profusely  served,  and  the  governor  rarely  took  a  seat  in 
his  presence.  An  old  physician  of  the  Bastile,  who  had  often 
attended  this  singular  man  when  he  was  ill,  said  that  he  had 
never  seen  his  face,  though  he  had  frequently  examined  his 
tongue,  and  the  rest  of  his  person.  He  was  admirably  made,  said 
this  physician ;  his  skin  was  rather  brown ;  he  excited  an  interest 
by  the  mere  tone  of  his  voice,  but  never  complained  of  his  situa- 
tion, nor  gave  any  hint  of  who  he  was.  This  unknown  individual 
died  in  1703,  and  was  buried  at  night  in  the  parish  of  St.  Paul's. 

"What  renders  these  circumstances  doubly  astonishing  is,  that 
at  the  time  when  he  was  sent  to  the  Isle  of  St.  Margaret,  no  emi- 
nent personage  disappeared  in  Europe.  Yet  that  the  prisoner 
was  one  is  beyond  all  doubt,  for  the  following  event  took  place 
during  an  early  period  of  his  residence  in  the  Isle.  The  governor 
himself  put  the  dishes  on  the  table,  and  then  withdrew,  after 
having  locked  him  in.  The  prisoner  one  day  wrote  with  his 
knife  on  a  silver  plate,  and  threw  the  plate  out  of  the  window, 
towards  a  boat,  which  was  near  the  shore,  almost  at  the  foot  of  the 
tower.  A  fisherman,  to  whom  the  boat  belonged,  picked  up  the 
plate,  and  took  it  to  the  governor.  Greatly  astonished,  the  latter 
asked  the  fisherman,  'Have  you  read  what  is  written  on  this  plate, 
or  has  anybody  seen  you  with  it?' — 4I  cannot  read,'  replied  the 
fisherman, '  I  have  only  just  found  it,  and  nobody  has  seen  it.' 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  231 

This  countryman  was  detained  till  the  governor  was  thoroughly 
convinced  that  he  could  not  read,  and  that  no  one  had  seen  the 
plate.  '  You  may  go  now,'  said  he, « and  think  yourself  lucky 
that  you  know  not  how  to  read.'  Of  the  persons  who  had  a  direct 
knowledge  of  this  fact  there  is  one,  of  undoubted  veracity,  who  is 
still  living.  M.  de  Chamillart  was  the  last  minister  who  was  in- 
trusted with  this  strange  secret.  The  second  Marshal  de  Fuillade, 
his  son-in-law,  told  me  that,  when  his  father-in-law  was  on  his 
death-bed,  he  begged  him  on  his  knees  to  tell  him  who  was  the 
man  who  was  never  known  by  any  other  name  than  that  of  the 
man  with  the  iron  mask.  Chamillart  replied  that  it  was  a  state 
secret,  and  that  he  had  taken  an  oath  never  to  reveal  it.  There 
are,  besides,  others  of  my  colemporaries  who  can  testify  to  my 
statement,  and  I  know  no  fact  which  is  more  extraordinary  or 
more  firmly  established." 

At  a  later  period,  Voltaire,  in  the  "Philosophical  Dictionary," 
corrected  some  trifling  errors  which  he  had  made  in  his  account 
of  the  masked  prisoner.  He  states  that  the  captive  was  first  con- 
fined at  Pignerol,  whence  he  was  removed  to  the  Isle  of  St.  Mar- 
garet, and  that,  a  few  days  before  his  death,  he  said  that  he  believed 
himself  to  be  about  sixty.  Voltaire  then  controverts  various  guesses 
which  had  been  hazarded  as  to  the  name  of  the  individual,  and 
then  adds,  that  the  concealment  of  his  face  must  have  been  occa- 
sioned by  "  the  fear  that  a  too  striking  resemblance  might  be  re- 
cognized in  his  features."  In  conclusion,  he  hints,  that  he  is 
well  informed  on  the  subject,  but  that  he  will  not  communicate 
his  knowledge.  It  would  seem,  however,  that,  after  the  lapse  of 
a  few  years,  he  changed  his  mind,— for,  in  another  edition  of  the 
Dictionary,  there  was  inserted  an  article,  ostensibly  by  the  editor, 
but  which  is  generally  supposed  to  be  written  by  Voltaire  himself. 
It  is  there  roundly  asserted  that  the  masked  captive  was  an  elder 
brother  of  Louis  XIV.,  illegitimate,  and  brought  up  in  secrecy, 
whom  for  obvious  reasons  of  state,  the  reigning  monarch  was 
obliged  to  hold  in  durance.  In  the  original  account  by  Voltaire, 
his  pointed  mention  of  the  prisoner's  fondness  for  fine  linen  and 
lace,  which  was  also  characteristic  of  Anne  of  Austria,  appears 
to  indicate  that  he  believed  her  to  be  the  mother  of  the  mysterious 
individual. 

There  is  in  the  human  mind  a  restless  longing,  and  perpetual 
struggle,  to  penetrate  into  everything  that  is  shrouded  in  mystery. 
Ever  since  the  man  with  the  iron  mask  was  first  mentioned,  he 
has  been  a  subject  of  inquiry  and  controversy ;  dissertations  and 
volumes  innumerable  have  been  written  to  dispel  the  Egyptian 


232  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

darkness  which  surrounds  him.  With  the  exception  perhaps  of 
Junius,  there  is  probably  no  personage  who  has  been  the  cause 
of  so  many  books  and  theories;  and  in  both  cases  no  approach  to 
certainty  has  been  made.  It  is  not  improbable  that  Junius  may 
yet  be  unveiled;  but,  with  respect  to  the  masked  captive,  so  long 
a  time  has  gone  by,  so  much  care  was  taken  after  his  decease  to 
destroy  all  traces  of  his  existence,  and  it  is  so  likely  that  the  re- 
maining documents,  if  any  there  were,  perished  during  the  French 
revolution,  that  there  is  not  a  chance  of  the  world  being  enabled 
to  say,  "  This  is  certainly  the  man." 

At  least  twelve  or  thirteen  candidates  have  been  brought  for- 
ward for  the  melancholy  honour  of  being  the  personage  in  ques- 
tion. Two  of  them  are  English— the  Duke  of  Monmouth  and 
Henry  Cromwell.  Of  the  latter  it  is  only  necessary  to  state  that 
he  lived  a  quiet  country  life  after  the  Restoration,  and  died  in 
Huntingdonshire  in  1679.  The  Duke  of  Monmouth  is  supposed, 
by  M.  de  St.  Foix,  to  have  found  some  one  obliging  enough  to 
mount  the  scaffold  in  his  stead,  and  to  have  been  sent  to  France, 
to  be  kept  in  safe  custody.  This  ineffably  absurd  theory  is  de- 
molished by  the  fact,  that,  when  Monmouth  was  executed,  the 
man  with  the  mask  had  been  for  twenty  years  in  prison.  Equally 
baseless  is  the  system  of  the  Chevalier  de  Taules,  who  made  a 
claim  for  Ardewicks,  the  patriarch  of  the  Armenians  at  Constan- 
tinople, who  was  kidnapped,  taken  to  France,  and  lodged  in  the 
Bastile  by  the  Jesuits,  to  whom  he  had  given  offence.  But  Arde- 
wicks was  not  carried  off  till  1699  or  1700,  and  he  is  known  to 
have  embraced  Catholicism,  recovered  his  liberty,  and  died  at 
Paris.  A  recent  French  writer,  of  very  considerable  talent  and 
research,  has  revived  the  idea  that  Fouquet  was  the  prisoner,  and 
has  supported  his  argument  with  great  skill;  but  it  is  impossible 
to  reconcile  his  supposition  with  the  story  told  by  Voltaire.  With 
respect  to  Fouquet,  the  precautions  and  deference  which  Voltaire 
mentions,  would  not  have  been  deemed  necessary.  We  have 
seen  that  the  author  of  the  "Secret  Memoirs  on  Persia"  asserts 
the  Count  of  Vermandois  to  have  been  the  unknown  captive. 
Voltaire  contemptuously  denies  the  truth  of  this  assertion;  which 
is,  indeed,  sufficiently  refuted  by  the  well-ascertained  fact,  that 
the  count  died  of  small-pox,  at  the  army  in  Flanders,  in  1683,  and 
was  buried  at  Arras ;  his  death  was  notorious  to  numbers  of  per- 
sons. The  Duke  of  Beaufort  has  been  invested  with  the  mask  on 
no  better  authority.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  was  slain,  in 
a  sally,  at  the  siege  of  Candia,  in  1669.  But,  say  those  who 
adopt  him  as  their  hero,  his  body  was  never  found.  It  certainly 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  233 

was  not  recognized;  and  for  this  plain  reason,  that  the  Turks 
stripped  it,  and  cut  off  the  head.  The  next  asserted  owner  of  the 
mask  is  backed  by  no  less  than  four  champions,  Dutens,  Roux- 
Fazillac,  Delort,  and  the  late  Lord  Dover,  and  his  cause  has  been 
ably  supported  by  them  all.  The  claimant  for  whom  they  contend 
is  Matthioli,  secretary  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua,  who,  for  having 
outwitted  Louis  in  a  negotiation  respecting  the  cession  of  Casal, 
was  seized  by  order  of  the  monarch,  and  imprisoned  at  Pignerol 
and  other  places.  There  are,  however,  circumstances  which  seem 
decisive  against  his  being  the  man  with  the  iron  mask.  It  will 
perhaps  suffice  to  mention  that,  instead  of  meeting  with  respect 
and  indulgence,  he  was  treated  with  the  utmost  harshness,  and 
even  cruelty.  It  has  been  argued,  as  a  presumption  on  his  side, 
that  his  name  bears  a  resemblance  to  that  of  Marchiali,  under 
which  the  unknown  captive  was  buried.  The  resemblance,  I 
think,  is  not  a  whit  closer  than  that  which  Fluellin  so  ingeniously 
discovers  between  Macedon  and  Monmouth,  and  is  a  sorry  basis 
on  which  to  build  an  argument.  Another  supposition  gives  the 
mask  to  Don  John  de  Gonzaga,  a  natural  brother  of  the  Duke  of 
Mantua,  who  is  imagined  to  have  accompanied  Matthioli  in  dis- 
guise to  the  conference  at  which  he  was  seized.  This  supposition 
is  rendered  untenable,  by  irrefragable  proof  that  Matthioli  was 
alone. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  only  remaining  name  which  has 
been  mentioned  as  that  of  the  mysterious  prisoner.  Voltaire,  as 
we  have  seen,  affirms  that  he  was  a  son  of  Anne  of  Austria.  This 
assertion  seems  to  receive  support  from  the  language  which  is 
said  to  have  been  held  by  Louis  XV.  Laborde,  the  head  valet-de- 
chambre  of  that  monarch,  who  enjoyed  much  of  his  confidence, 
once  endeavoured  to  obtain  from  him  the  long-concealed  secret. 
He  did  not  succeed.  "  I  pity  him,"  replied  the  king,  "  but  his 
detention  was  injurious  only  to  himself,  and  averted  great  mis- 
fortunes. Thou  must  not  know  the  secret."  It  is  manifest  that 
such  a  speech  could  not  be  made  with  reference  to  any  of  the  per- 
sons who  have  been  enumerated.  It  is  equally  manifest  that,  as 
Voltaire  has  intimated,  the  mask  could  have  been  worn  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  prevent  a  striking  likeness  from  being  re- 
cognized. 

Various  conjectures  have  been  made  as  to  the  paternity  of  the 
unknown  child,  to  which  Anne  of  Austria  is  thought  to  have  given 
birth.  By  some  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  has  been  assigned  as 
its  father,  others  have  attributed  it  to  a  French  nobleman  ;  some 
have  imagined  that  it  was  the  fruit  of  a  legitimate  union  with  Gar- 


234  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


dinai  Mazarin,  a  kind  of  union,  which,  however,  could  not  take 
place  ;  and  others,  with  more  tenderness  for  the  character  of  the 
queen,  have  represented  it  to  be  a  twin-brother  of  Louis  XIV. 
The  theory  of  his  royal  birth  may,  perhaps,  be  as  erroneous  as 
all  the  rest;  but  it  appears  to  me  to  be  the  only  one  by  which  we 
can  account  for  the  close  and  perpetual  imprisonment,  the  pains 
taken  to  confine  the  secret  to  as  few  persons  as  possible,  the  care- 
fully concealed  features,  and  the  respect  and  indulgence  which 
are  asserted  to  have  been  uniformly  shown  to  the  unfortunate  cap- 
tive.* 

We  must  now  turn  our  attention  from  the  victim  of  state  policy 
to  some  of  the  victims  of  religious  persecution. 

To  enumerate  ail  whom  Jansenism  led  to  the  Bastile  would  be 
a  tedious  labour,  and  no  less  uninteresting  than  tedious,  as  little 
more  than  a  dry  list  of  names  would  be  the  result.  Among  the 
^ansenists  who,  towards  the  close  of  Louis  XIV. 's  reign,  were 
sent  to  the  Bastile,  we  find  Tiron,  a  Benedictine,  who  was  prior 
of  Meulan ;  Germain  Veillant,  an  author ;  and  Lebrun-Desmarets, 
a  man  of  much  theological  erudition.  Tiron  was  committed  "  for 
different  writings,  on  matters  of  religion  and  state,  and  against  the 
king  and  the  Jesuits."  The  coupling  together  of  the  king  and 
the  disciples  of  Loyola,  as  though  they  were  co-equal  powers,  is  a 
striking  proof  of  the  vast  influence  which  the  Society  of  Jesus  had 
acquired.  Veillant's  offence  was  his  being  "a  violent  Jansenist, 
in  connection  with  father  duesnel,  and  having  got  his  works 
printed,  and  managed  his  affairs  at  Paris."  He  was  examined 
eighty-nine  times,  and  was  probably  treated  with  more  than  com- 
mon harshness,  for  he  fell  ill  on  the  day  that  he  was  released,  and 
died  in  the  course  of  a  few  days. 

Lebrun-Desmarets,  a  native  of  Rouen,  who  entered  the  Bastile 
in  1707,  two  years  previous  to  the  destruction  of  Port-Royal  mo- 
nastery, was  of  a  family  which  was  strongly  attached  to  that  per- 
secuted establishment.  His  father,  a  bookseller  of  Rouen,  was 
condemned  to  the  galleys,  for  having  printed  books  in  vindication 
of  it.  The  son  was  partly  educated  in  the  convent,  and  never 
ceased  to  regard  its  inmates  with  affection  and  reverence.  In 
1707,  when  they  were  involved  in  a  harassing  lawsuit  by  their 
enemies,  Lebrun  espoused  their  cause  so  ardently  that  he  was 
imprisoned.  He  was  held  in  durance  for  five  years,  and  was 


*  The  mask  is  said  to  have  been  improperly  described  as  being  of  iron  ;  it 
being  formed  of  black  velvet.  Only  the  frame-work  and  the  springs  were  of 
metal. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

treated  with  great  severity.  After  he  recovered  his  liberty,  he 
took  up  his  abode  at  Orleans,  where  he  died,  in  1731,  at  the  age 
of  eighty.  On  Palm  Sunday,  the  day  before  his  death,  fearing 
that  a  priest  would  refuse  to  administer  the  sacrament  to  him,  he 
dragged  his  enfeebled  frame  to  the  church,  that  he  might  not  quit 
the  world  without  the  consolation  of  having  participated  in  the 
rites  of  religion.  Lebrun's  principal  work  is  a  "  Liturgical  Jour- 
ney in  France,"  in  which  he  gives  an  account  of  the  most  remark- 
able customs  and  ceremonies  of  the  various  churches. 

We  now  revert  once  more  to  prisoners  whose  sins  were  politi- 
cal. Count  John  Albert  de  Bucquoy,  the  next  individual  who 
comes  under  our  notice,  was  of  the  family  of  the  celebrated  Span- 
ish and  Imperial  general,  who  bore  the  same  name  and  title.  He 
was  a  native  of  Champagne,  in  which  province  he  was  born  about 
1650.  A  line  in  Dryden's  severe  description  of  Villiers,  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  will  partly  characterize  Bucquoy ;  he 

"  Was  everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long." 

The  circumstances  of  his  having  been  left  an  orphan  at  the  age 
of  four  years,  and  having  received  a  very  imperfect  education, 
may,  perhaps,  account  for  some  of  his  eccentricities.  He  embraced 
the  military  life  ;  but  when  he  had  served  for  five  years,  an  escape 
from  danger,  which  he  considered  as  miraculous,  induced  him  to 
make  a  vow  to  withdraw  from  all  worldly  pursuits.  The  rules 
of  the  Carthusian  monks  not  being  strict  enough  to  satisfy  him, 
he  entered  at  La  Trappe,  where  he  so  much  injured  his  health 
by  supererogatory  austerities  that  the  Abbe  de  Ranee,  the  supe- 
rior of  the  convent,  was  obliged  to  dismiss  him.  Bucquoy  then 
abruptly  resumed  his  warlike  attire ;  but  soon  after,  with  equal 
abruptness,  again  cast  it  ofF,  to  dress  himself  in  rags,  and  become 
a  hermit.  Flying  from  the  temptations  of  Paris,  he  next  settled 
at  Rouen,  where,  under  the  name  of  La  Mort,  he  for  two  years 
kept  a  school  to  give  gratuitous  instruction  to  the  poor.  The 
Jesuits  of  that  city  admired  his  talents  and  his  humble  demeanour, 
and  fruitlessly  endeavoured  to  enrol  him  in  their  fraternity. 
Having  been  accidentally  recognized  by  a  person  who  had  been 
a  brother  officer,  he  could  no  longer  preserve  his  incognito,  and 
he  therefore  quitted  Rouen,  and  bent  his  way  to  Paris.  There  he 
formed  the  plan  of  founding  a  new  monastic  order,  destined  to 
prove  to  unbelievers  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion.  It  ap- 
pears to  have  been  about  this  time  that  he  assumed  the  garb  and 
title  of  an  abbe.  But  while  he  was  thus  planning  the  demolition 
of  incredulity,  he  so  bewildered  himself  in  his  theological  specu- 


236  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

lations  and  reasonings  that  he  became  a  sceptic.  One  thing 
which  contributed  much  to  produce  the  change  in  him  was,  that, 
notwithstanding  his  self-inflicted  severities,  he  had  failed  to  obtain 
the  power  of  working  miracles.  This  alone  would  suffice  to  prove 
that  his  intellects  were  disordered.  At  this  period,  his  relatives, 
who  had  long  believed  him  dead,  were  made  acquainted  with  his 
being  in  existence,  and  they  procured  for  him  a  benefice.  Buc- 
quoy, however,  had  got  rid  of  his  religious  schemes,  and  had  re- 
lapsed into  a  taste  for  the  profession  of  a  soldier.  His  wish  was 
now  to  raise  a  regiment.  But  while  he  was  indulging  this  new 
freak,  he  attracted  the  attention  of  the  government  by  his  invec- 
tives against  despotism  and  the  abuse  of  power.  He  was  mis- 
taken for  the  Abbe  de  la  Bourlie,  who  afterwards  became  notorious 
in  England  under  the  name  of  Guiscard,  and  was  arrested.  When 
the  mistake  was  discovered,  he  would  have  been  set  free  had  not 
his  indiscreet  language  and  conduct  caused  him  to  be  detained. 
He  was  committed  to  Fort-1'Eveque,  from  whence,  however,  he 
contrived  to  escape.  After  having  been  at  large  for  a  considera- 
ble time,  he  was  caught  and  shut  up  in  the  Bastile,  with  a  strict 
charge  to  the  keepers  that  he  should  be  closely  watched,  as  being 
an  enterprising  and  dangerous  person.  The  officers  of  that  prison 
were  seldom  slack  in  executing  such  orders,  yet,  in  spite  of  all 
their  vigilance,  Bucquoy  took  his  measures  so  skillfully,  and  car- 
ried them  into  effect  with  so  much  secrecy,  that,  in  May,  1709, 
after  having  been  confined  for  two  years,  he  left  his  gaolers  in  the 
lurch,  and  made  good  his  retreat  to  Switzerland.  As  soon  as  he 
was  in  safety,  he  began  to  negotiate  with  the  French  ministers  for 
his  return  to  France,  and  the  restoration  of  his  property.  Failing 
in  this,  he  journeyed  to  Holland,  and  submitted  to  the  allies  a  pro- 
ject for  converting  France  into  a  republic,  and  annihilating  arbi- 
trary power.  This  scheme,  too,  fell  to  the  ground.  It  was,  never- 
theless, beneficial  to  him,  as  it  gained  for  him  the  friendship  of 
General  Schulemburg,  who,  in  1714,  introduced  him,  at  Hanover, 
to  George  I.  The  monarch  was  pleased  with  his  conversation, 
admitted  him  to  his  table,  and  gave  him  a  pension.  Bucquoy 
lived  to  nearly  the  age  of  ninety.  In  his  latter  days,  he  wholly 
neglected  his  dress,  suffered  his  beard  to  grow,  and  might  well 
have  been  mistaken  for  a  squalid  mendicant. 

There  was,  perhaps,  a  spice  of  madness  in  Bucquoy  which  suf- 
ficiently accounts  for  his  eccentric  conduct.  For  the  faults,  or 
rather  crimes,  of  the  personage  who  now  comes  under  our  notice, 
there  was  no  such  excuse.  Throughout  the  whole  of  his  exist- 
ence, which,  like  that  of  Bucquoy,  was  protracted  far  beyond  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  237 

period  usually  allotted  to  man,  the  Marshal  Duke  of  Richelieu  dis- 
played as  few  virtues,  and  as  many  vices  as  any  courtier  on  re- 
cord. He  had  superficial  talents,  some  wit,  polished  manners,  a 
handsome  person,  and  much  bravery ;  and  this  is  all  that  can  be 
said  for  him.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  wholly  without  honour, 
morals,  and  religion;  a  supporter  and  adulator  of  despotism,  a 
political  intriguer,  who  could  stoop  to  use  the  basest  means  for 
the  accomplishment  of  his  purposes,  a  reckless  duelist,  and  a  sys- 
tematic and  heartless  seducer;  he  was,  in  fact,  an  impersonation 
of  the  profligacy  and  corruption  which  distinguished  the  courts 
of  the  regent  Duke  of  Orleans  and  the  fifteenth  Louis. 

Richelieu,  who,  in  his  early  years,  was  known  as  the  Duke  of 
Fronsac,  was  born  in  1696.  He  was  a  seven  months  child,  whom 
after  his  birth  it  was  necessary  to  keep  in  a  box  filled  with  cotton, 
and  the  preservation  of  whose  existence  was  long  doubtful.  When 
his  health  was  established,  he  was  put  under  able  preceptors ;  but 
he  derived  little  benefit  from  their  instructions,  and  he  never  could 
spell  with  tolerable  correctness.  He  acquired,  however,  those 
showy  graces  which,  undoubtedly,  are  an  ornament  to  virtue,  but 
which,  when  the  possessor  has  no  virtue,  can  captivate  only  per- 
sons of  frivolous  minds.  He  was  introduced  to  the  court  at  the 
early  age  of  fourteen,  and  soon,  as  St.  Simon  tells  us,  became  its 
darling.  The  female  portion  of  it  was  in  raptures  with  him,  and 
seems  to  have  expressed  its  feelings  without  any  regard  to  deco- 
rum. Fronsac,  whose  passions  were  uncommonly  precocious, 
met  the  forward  with  equal  ardour,  and  spared  no  pains  to  ensnare 
the  few  who  were  more  timid  or  more  modest.  He  went  to  such 
a  length  that  censure  began  to  fall  heavily  on  the  Duchess  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  his  own  father  deemed  it  prudent  to  request  a  lettre- 
de-cachet  against  him,  under  which  he  was  for  fourteen  months 
confined  in  the  Bastile.  During  his  seclusion,  Fronsac  was  at- 
tended by  a  preceptor;  and  he  consequently  came  out  of  prison 
with  some  knowledge  of  Latin,  and  some  addition  to  his  scanty 
stock  of  useful  information ;  but,  as  far  as  concerned  dignity  of 
mind  and  purity  of  heart,  no  improvement  whatever  had  taken 
place. 

The  licentious  career  of  Richelieu  was  suspended  for  a  while, 
by  his  serving  as  a  volunteer  in  the  army.  He  was  present  at 
the  battle  of  Denain,  and  at  the  sieges  of  the  fortresses  which  were 
recovered  by  Villars  in  consequence  of  his  victory ;  and  he  distin- 
guished himself  so  much,  that  he  was  made  aide-de-camp  to  the 
marshal,  and  was  chosen  by  him  to  convey  to  Paris  the  news  of 
the  surrender  of  Friburg.  In  1715,  he  succeeded  to  the  title  of 


238  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Richelieu.  On  this  occasion  he  performed  an  action  which  merits 
praise ;  the  property  which  was  available  for  the  debts  of  his  father 
was  far  from  sufficient  to  cover  them ;  he  generously  paid  to  the 
creditors  the  full  amount  of  their  claims. 

Again  all  the  faculties  of  Richelieu  were  devoted  to  licentious 
pleasures,  which  were  now  and  then  interrupted  by  a  duel.  In 
1716  he  had  a  desperate  encounter  with  the  Count  de  Grace,  for 
which  the  regent  committed  both  parties  to  the  Bastile,  where  they  re- 
mained from  March  till  August.  This  imprisonment  was,  however, 
less  severe  than  that  which  he  had  to  endure  two  years  afterwards. 
In  the  spring  of  1719,  he  was  sent,  for  the  third  time,  to  the  Bas- 
tile, but,  in  this  instance,  he  went  with  the  brand  of  traitor  upon 
him,  and  was  treated  accordingly.  He  was  concerned  in  the 
Cellamare  conspiracy,  and  had  promised  to  deliver  up  Bayonne 
to  the  Spaniards,  and  to  join  in  exciting  the  south  of  France  to 
revolt.  "If  the  Duke  of  Richelieu  had  four  heads,"  said  the 
regent,  "  I  have  proof  enough  against  him  to  deprive  him  of  them 
all."  On  his  first  arrival  at  the  Bastiie,  the  duke  was  placed  in 
a  dungeon ;  but  female  influence  soon  obtained  his  removal  to 
more  comfortable  quarters,  and  permission  for  him  to  walk  daily 
on  the  ramparts  of  the  fortress.  His  walks  gave  rise  to  an  occur- 
rence, which  speaks  volumes  as  to  the  unblushing  depravity  of  the 
highborn  dames  of  France.  During  the  hour  that  he  was  walk- 
ing, a  string  of  elegant  carriages,  filled  with  women  who  notori- 
ously were  or  had  been  his  mistresses,  passed  slowly  backward 
and  forward  in  front  of  the  spot  where  he  was,  and  an  intercourse 
of  signs  was  kept  up  between  the  prisoner  and  these  unscrupulous 
ladies.  It  was  by  the  intercession  of  two  princesses,  who  were 
enamoured  of  him,  that  his  release  was  obtained,  after  he  had 
suffered  a  captivity  of  five  months. 

The  danger  to  which  Richelieu  had  been  exposed  on  this  occa- 
sion, though  it  did  not  render  him  less  vicious,  rendered  him,  at 
least  in  one  respect,  more  prudent;  he  did  not'  again  put  his  head 
in  the  way  of  being  brought  to  the  block.  Thenceforward  he 
limited  his  political  intrigues  in  France,  to  acquiring  benefits  for 
himself,  circumventing  his  rivals,  providing  mistresses  for  the 
king,  and  making  those  mistresses  the  instruments  of  his  designs; 
and  by  these  arts  he  became  a  thriving  courtier.  Honours  of  all 
kinds,  military  and  civil,  were  showered  upon  him.  At  the  age 
of  twenty-four,  without  any  literary  pretensions  whatever,  he  was 
unanimously  chosen  a  member  of  the  French  Academy ;  and,  in 
1734,  he  was  nominated  an  honorary  member  of  the  Academy 
of  Inscriptions  and  Belles  Lettres.  In  the  army  he  rose  to  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  239 


rank  of  marshal;  but  his  titles  as  a  soldier  were  not  unearned. 
At  Kehl,  Philipsburg,  Dettingen,  Friburg,  Fontenoy,  Laufeldt, 
Genoa,  and  Minorca,  they  were  fairly  won.  In  his  last  campaign, 
however,  that  of  Hanover,  in  1757,  he  sullied  his  laurels  by  the 
most  infamous  conduct.  His  rapacity  and  extortion  were  a  scor- 
pion scourge  to  the  country  which  France  had  subdued ;  and,  as 
though  he  feared  that  his  own  endless  exactions  would  not  suffice 
to  make  him  hated,  he  allowed,  if  not  encouraged,  his  troops  to 
be  guilty  of  marauding,  and  of  various  other  enormities.  The 
subsequent  defeats  of  the  French  army  were  the  righteous  result 
of  these  dishonourable  proceedings.  As  a  negotiator,  Richelieu 
manifested  considerable  skill.  He  was  twice  employed  in  that 
capacity;  at  Vienna  from  1725  to  1729,  and  at  Dresden,  in  1746. 
In  both  instances  he  fully  accomplished  the  purpose  of  his  mis- 
sion, and  in  both  he  displayed  a  degree  of  ostentatious  magni- 
ficence which  had  seldom  been  equaled.  When  he  entered 
Vienna,  his  train  consisted  of  seventy-five  carriages;  and  his 
horses,  and  those  of  his  officers,  were  shod  with  silver,  the  shoes 
being  slightly  fastened,  that  they  might  fall  off  and  be  left  for  the 
populace.  In  the  state  employments  which  he  held,  there  appears 
to  have  been  but  a  solitary  instance  in  which  he  was  entitled  to 
praise.  As  lieutenant-general  of  the  king  in  Languedoc,  he  once 
deviated  into  the  right  path ;  by  a  judicious  mixture  of  firmness 
and  mildness,  he  averted  the  disturbances  which  were  about  to 
arise  from  the  persecution  of  the  Protestants.  But  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  be  permanently  good.  At  a  later  period,  his  harsh- 
ness, in  the  same  country,  was  rewarded  by  his  being  appointed 
governor  of  Guienne  and  Gascony;  and  his  pride  and  tyranny 
very  soon  rendered  him  an  object  of  detestation  in  both  of  these 
provinces.  At  court,  his  influence  and  his  example  had  a  baneful 
effect.  He  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  possessed  the 
friendship  of  Louis  XV.,  and  he  foully  abused  it;  he  pandered 
to  the  monarch's  lusts,  and  strained  every  nerve,  with  too  much 
success,  to  prevent  the  misguided  sovereign  from  carrying  into 
effect  his  occasional  resolves,  to  lead  in  future  a  life  more  suitable 
to  his  years,  and  to  the  lofty  station  which  he  filled.  He  was  the 
Mephistopheles  of  his  royal  master. 

Richelieu  was  so  fortunate  as  not  to  be  exposed  to  the  revolu- 
tionary tempest;  his  disgraceful  career  was  brought  to  a  close  in 
August,  1788,  when  he  had  attained  the  age  of  ninety-two. 

Of  prisoners  less  known,  or  less  important,  during  the  period 
to  which  this  chapter  refers,  it  will  suffice  to  give  a  scanty  speci- 
men. Religious  intolerance  contributed  largely  to  people  the  gaols. 


240  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


To  enumerate  all  who  expiated  in  dungeons  the  crime  of  being 
Protestants,  would  be  an  endless  task;  in  1686,  a  hundred  and 
forty-seven  persons,  and  in  1689  sixty-one  were  sent  to  the  Bas- 
tile  alone,  almost  all  of  whom  were  Huguenots.  To  unite  in 
marriage  the  members  of  that  proscribed  class  was  a  heinous 
offence;  a  priest,  named  John  de  Pardieu,  was  doomed  to  the 
Bastile  for  committing  it.  Whole  families  were  immured  for  en- 
deavouring to  leave  the  kingdom.  Some  of  the  victims  were 
driven  to  despair  by  the  manner  in  which  they  were  treated. 
Such  was  the  case  with  the  Sieur  Braconneau,  who,  as  the  regis- 
ter specifies,  was  "imprisoned  on  account  of  religion,  and  died  of 
a  wound  which  he  gave  to  himself  with  a  knife."  The  Protest- 
ants were,  however,  not  the  sole  sufferers ;  the  Jansenists,  too, 
came  in  for  an  ample  share  of  persecution. 

Real  or  pretended  plots  and  evil  speaking  against  the  king 
were  another  fruitful  source  of  commitments.  The  following  are 
a  few  instances:  Don  Thomas  Crisafi,  "suspected  of  intrigues 
with  the  Spanish  ambassador  against  the  interests  of  the  king." 
Joseph  Jurin,  a  footman,  for  having  said,  "Who  can  prevent  me 
from  killing  the  king?"  The  Sieur  Beranger  de  Berliere,  "for  a 
plot  against  the  king's  person."  The  Count  de  Morlot,  accused 
of  "detestable  purposes  against  the  king's  life."  Desvallons, 
"for  speaking  insolently  of  the  king."  Laurence  Lemierre, 
shoemaker,  and  his  wife,  for  dangerous  discourse  about  the  king; 
and  Francis  Brindjoug  for  the  same  offence.  The  Sieur  Cardel, 
"for  important  reasons,  regarding  the  safety  of  the  king's  person." 
Jonas  de  Lamas,  a  baker,  "for  execrations  against  the  king." 
This  man  was  twenty  years  in  the  Bastile,  and  was  then  removed 
to  the  Bicetre.  The  Sieur  de  la  Perche,  a  fencing-master,  accused 
of  having  said  that  "  the  king  oppressed  his  subjects,  and  thought 
only  of  amusing  himself  with  his  old  women;  that  he  would  soon 
be  a  king  of  beggars ;  that  his  officers  were  starving ;  that  he  had 
ruined  the  kingdom  by  driving  away  the  Huguenots ;  and  that 
he  cared  not  a  pin  for  his  people."  The  last  article  of  the  Sieur 
de  la  Perche's  charge  against  the  sovereign  was  made  in  language 
which  is  too  vulgar  to  be  translated. 

Under  the  head  of  miscellaneous  offences  may  be  mentioned 
the  following :  Pierre  His,  "  for  having  assisted  several  persons 
to  go  clandestinely  to  America."  Those  persons  were  probably 
Huguenots.  The  Sieur  Marini,  envoy  from  Genoa.  This  com- 
mitment, for  which  no  reason  is  assigned,  took  place  in  1684,  the 
year  in  which  Louis  XIV.  made  his  disgraceful  attack  on  Genoa. 
Besnoit,  called  Arnonville,  "an  evil-minded  woman,  who  held 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  241 

improper  discourse."  Charles  Combon,  called  Count  de  Longue- 
val,  "a  maker  of  horoscopes,  a  fortune-teller,  and  vender  of  drugs 
to  procure  abortion."  The  Abbe  Dubois,  "a  wicked  and  trouble- 
some person."  Papillard,  "a  bad  Catholic."  Saint  Vigor,  "af- 
fecting to  be  a  hermit,  but  a  man  of  licentious  manners."  John 
Blondeau,  a  hermit,  "  a  suspected  person."  Peter  John  Mere, 
professing  himself  a  physician,  "  for  selling  improper  drugs." 
After  having  been  thirty  years  in  the  Bastile,  Mere  was  sent  to 
the  Bedlam  at  Charenton.  Bailly,  a  hatter, "  for  a  design  to  es- 
tablish a  hat  manufactory  in  a  foreign  country."  Louisa  Simon, 
a  widow,  "pretends  to  tell  fortunes,  to  have  secrets  for  inspiring 
love,  and  to  be  able  to  make  marriages."  John  Galembert,  of 
the  gens-d'armes,  "a  great  traveler,  suspected  of  corresponding 
with  the  enemies  of  the  state."  He  was  subsequently  exiled  to 
Languedoc,  his  native  province,  within  the  limits  of  which  he 
was  ordered  to  remain.  The  Prince  de  Riccia,  "one  of  the  party 
at  Naples  that  is  against  the  French  succession."  Nicholas 
Buissen,  "  for  insolent  letters  against  Samuel  Bernard  (the  court 
banker),  with  an  intention  to  hurt  his  credit."  The  Sieur  de  Sou- 
lange,  formerly  a  captain  of  infantry  in  the  Orleannois  regiment, 
"a  rogue,  and  spy  on  both  sides." 

It  will  be  seen  that,  in  some  of  those  instances,  the  individuals 
deserved  legal  punishment;  that,  in  others,  the  charges  were 
trivial,  or  vague,  or  ridiculous ;  and  that  in  at  least  one  case  the 
French  monarch  displayed  gross  contempt  of  the  law  of  nations. 
His  imprisonment  of  Marini,  the  Genoese  envoy,  can  only  be 
paralleled  by  the  manner  in  which  the  Turks  used  to  treat  Chris- 
tian ambassadors  on  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities.  But  it  was 
of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  his  conduct  towards  the  Genoese  re- 
public. It  was  retributive  justice,  that  he,  the  wanton  disturber 
and  insulter  of  Europe,  should  himself  live  to  have  his  pride 
trodden  into  the  dust,  and  to  dread  the  approach  of  a  hostile  army 
to  the  walls  of  his  own  capital. 


16 

.,..:,,.   ,-,  -ja.i 


243  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Reign  of  Louis  XV. — Regency  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans. — Oppressive  measures 
against  all  persons  connected  with  the  Finances. — Their  failure. — Prisoners 
in  the  Bastile. — Freret.— Voltaire. — The  Cellamare  conspiracy. — The  Duchess 
of  Maine. — Madame  de  Staal. — Malezieu. — Bargeton. — Mahudel. — The  Mis- 
sissippi scheme. — Count  de  Horn. — Death  of  the  Regent — Administration  of 
the  Duke  of  Bourbon. — La  Blanc. — Paris  Duverney. — The  Count  de  Belleisle. 
— The  Chevalier  de  Belleisle. — Madame  de  Tencin. 

WHEN  the  Duke  of  Orleans  assumed  the  regency,  the  finances 
of  the  kingdom  were  in  a  lamentable  state.  The  protracted  and 
expensive  wars  into  which  Louis  XIV.  had  wantonly  plunged, 
the  boundless  extravagance  in  which  he  had  indulged,  and  the 
peculations,  and  wasteful  expenditure  of  every  kind,  which  had 
so  long  prevailed,  had  not  only  drained  the  treasury,  but  had  also 
caused  a  heavy  load  of  debt,  and  almost  dried  up  the  sources  of 
supply.  The  government  was  indebted  to  an  enorrnous  amount, 
the  revenue  of  three  years  had  been  anticipated,  and  public  credit 
was  destroyed.  From  all  quarters  a  loud  cry  was  raised  for  fiscal 
reform.  A  national  bankruptcy  was  proposed  in  the  council,  but 
the  proposal  was  unanimously  rejected.  The  means  which  were 
adopted  in  its  stead  were,  however,  scarcely  less  unjust;  they 
were  the  same  clumsy  and  violent  means  which  former  rulers  had 
almost  uniformly  employed.  Contracts,  entered  into  by  the  min- 
isters of  the  late  king,  were  capriciously  annulled,  annuities  and 
pensions  were  cut  down  to  one  half,  offices,  which  the  holders 
had  bought  at  a  great  price,  were  abolished  without  any  compen- 
sation being  given,  a  new  coinage  was  issued  at  a  higher  nominal 
value,  and  government  securities,  to  the  amount  of  six  hundred 
millions,  were  at  one  stroke  reduced  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  mil- 
lions, and  even  of  this  diminished  sum  the  creditors  were  de- 
frauded of  more  than  a  fifth  part.  But  the  grand  panacea,  for 
restoring  the  consumptive  exchequer  to  its  pristine  vigour,  was 
the  establishment  of  a  court,  antithetically  denominated  a  chamber 
of  justice.  This  chamber  was  directed  to  institute  a  rigorous  in- 
quiry into  the  conduct  of  all  persons  who  had  any  connection 
with  the  finances,  or  with  contracts  of  any  kind,  and  compel  them 
to  disgorge  their  spoil.  A  sweeping  edict  brought  under  the  ju- 
risdiction of  this  inquisitorial  body  several  thousands  of  individuals, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  243 

from  the  richest  farmer-general,  or  contractor,  down  to  the  poorest 
clerk.  "  The  custom,"  says  Lemontey,  "  of  drawing  hack  by  pro- 
scriptions the  rapines  which  a  vicious  administration  has  tolerated, 
is  an  Asiatic  art  which  ill  beseems  regular  governments.  But, 
condemned  to  a  financial  anarchy  by  its  squandering  habits, 
France,  for  a  long  while,  could  find  no  other  than  this  odious 
remedy."  The  remedy  was  indeed  an  odious  one!  The  retro- 
spective operation  of  this  edict  extended  as  far  back  as  seven-and- 
twenty  years;  so  that  it  clutched  in  its  iron  grasp  not  only  living 
presumed  criminals,  but  the  children,  grandchildren,  and  relations 
of  those  who  had  ceased  to  exist,  and  thus  at  once  inflicted  tor* 
ment  on  a  multitude  of  guiltless  victims,  and  shook  property  to 
its  very  basis.  The  means  employed  to  give  effect  to  the  edict 
were  of  the  most  base  and  barbarous  kind.  Death  was  the  pen- 
alty denounced  against  all  who  were  convicted,  whoever  made  an 
incorrect  declaration  of  his  fortune  was  doomed  to  the  galleys, 
and,  that  there  might  be  no  lack  of  evidence,  the  pillory  was  held 
up  in  terrorem  to  negligent  witnesses.  But,  bad  as  all  this  was, 
there  was  something  still  worse.  Informers  were  to  be  rewarded 
with  a  fifth  part  of  the  confiscations,  and  to  receive  a  certificate 
stating  that  they  were  under  the  king's  protection,  and  exempt 
from  being  sued  by  their  creditors  ;  to  slander  them  was  rendered 
punishable  with  death.  By  another  enactment,  servants  were 
allowed  to  denounce  their  masters,  under  fictitious  names  ;  a  happy 
invention  for  destroying  all  domestic  confidence !  To  excite  the 
people,  already  sufficiently  excited,  a  medal  was  struck,  on  which 
the  culprits  were  typified  by  the  robber  Cacus,  horrible  songs  and 
prints  were  circulated,  and  it  was  ordered  that  a  portion  of  the 
confiscated  property  should  be  distributed  among  the  inhabitants 
of  the  place  where  the  condemned  individual  resided.  The 
whole  scheme  of  proceeding  was  consistently  infamous;  it  never 
deviated  into  anything  like  justice. 

To  prevent  the  escape  of  those  who  were  marked  out  for  pro- 
secution, an  order  was  suddenly  issued  forbidding  them  to  leave 
their  abodes  on  pain  of  death.  Such,  however,  was  the  terror 
inspired  by  this  unexpected  measure,  that  many  took  flight,  and 
others  put  an  end  to  their  own  existence.  Of  those  who  remained, 
multitudes  were  dragged  from  their  homes  in  the  most  studiously 
disgraceful  manner,  amidst  the  hootings  of  the  populace,  who  lent 
their  willing  aid  to  the  officers  of  police.  The  Bastile  and  the 
other  prisons  were  speedily  so  crowded,  that  numbers  were 
obliged  to  be  left  in  their  houses  under  a  guard.  For  six  months 
the  chamber  proceeded  in  its  career,  purveying  liberally  for  the 


244  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

pillory,  the  galleys,  and  the  scaffold.  It  was  at  last  discovered, 
that  this  was  a  tedious  and  unsatisfactory  process ;  that  though 
revenge  and  malice  were  gratified, there  was  little  profit;  and  the 
system  was  in  consequence  changed.  To  levy  enormous  fines 
and  impositions  was  the  new  course  which  was  adopted.  Twenty 
lists  of  pecuniary  proscription  were  made  out,  containing  the 
names  of  4470  heads  of  families,  from  whom  the  sum  of  two 
hundred  and  twenty  millions  of  livres — about  nine  millions  ster- 
ling— was  demanded.  The  celebrated  Bourvalais,  who  had  risen 
from  being  a  footman  to  be  one  of  the  richest  financiers  in  France, 
was  taxed  at  4,400,000  livres.  In  many  instances  envy  or  per- 
sonal enmity  contrived  to  have  insufferable  burdens  laid  upon 
obnoxious  individuals.  Then,  on  the  part  of  the  sufferers,  ensued 
solicitations  and  bribes  to  men  and  women  in  power,  to  procure 
more  favourable  terms;  the  golden  harvest  was  eagerly  reaped  by 
the  courtiers,  and  the  court  became  a  theatre  of  underhand  ma- 
noeuvres and  gross  corruption.  The  people,  meanwhile,  were 
rapidly  growing  disgusted  with  the  chamber  of  justice.  They 
found  that  they  had  derived  no  benefit  whatever  from  its  labours, 
the  sums  extorted  by  it  having  chiefly  been  wasted  in  gifts  and 
pensions  to  the  privileged  classes.  There  was  another  and  yet 
stronger  reason  for  their  dissatisfaction.  Trade,  and  the  demand 
for  labour  had  fallen  off  to  an  alarming  degree,  and  money  was 
rapidly  disappearing;  for  no  one  would  display  riches,  and  in- 
dulge in  luxuries,  when  his  so  doing  might  render  him  an  object 
of  persecution.  SLM  loud  a  cry  was  therefore  raised  against  the 
chamber,  that,  after  having  been  twelve  months  in  existence,  it 
was  suppressed.  By  the  subsequent  reversal  of  most  of  its  sen- 
tences, and  by  a  declaration,  that  no  measure  of  a  similar  kind 
should  again  be  resorted  to,  a  severe  but  just  censure  was  in  fact 
passed  upon  the  defunct  tribunal,  and  upon  the  whole  transaction. 
From  tyranny  in  the  gross  we  must  now  turn  our  attention 
again  to  tyranny  in  the  detail.  Oriental  despotism,  in  its  most 
capricious  mood,  could  not  have  inflicted  punishment  more  ridicu- 
lously and  unjustly  than  the  French  government  inflicted  it  upon 
the  celebrated  Freret.  This  eminent  individual,  who  was  born 
at  Paris  in  1688,  was  remarkable  for  his  precocious  talents  and 
multifarious  learning.  Chronology,  geography, mythology,  history, 
and  the  laws,  customs,  and  literature  of  ancient  and  modern  na- 
tions, were  all  thoroughly  known  to  him;  he  was  not  ignorant  of 
the  abstruse  sciences,  and  his  knowledge,  instead  of  being  a  chao- 
tic mass,  was  well  arranged,  systematically  linked  together,  and 
readily  available.  An  authoritative  tone,  and  some  ruggedness 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  245 

of  manner  were  the  only  defects  imputed  to  him;  but  they  were 
merely  superficial,  and  did  not  prevent  him  from  being  kind, 
charitable,  and  a  sincere  and  constant  friend.  He  died  at  the  age 
of  sixty-one,  his  constitution,  which  was  naturally  strong,  being 
worn  out  by  incessant  study.  The  edition  of  his  works,  in  twenty 
volumes,  is  incomplete.  Several  irreligious  productions  have 
been  calumniously  attributed  to  him. 

It  was  a  "Memoir  on  the  Origin  of  the  French  which  was  the 
cause  of  his  being  sent  to  the  Bastile  in  1705,  and  the  Abbe  de 
Vertot  is  asserted  to  have  been  the  person  to  whom  he  owed  his 
imprisonment.  His  offence  was,  that  the  origin  which  he  as- 
signed to  his  countryman  was  an  affront  to  the  national  dignity. 
It  is  said  that,  after  having  been  closely  interrogated  at  the  Bas- 
tile, he  begged  leave  to  ask  a  single  question,  "Why  am  I  here?" 
To  this  the  reply  was,  "You  have  a  great  deal  of  curiosity." 
When  he  was  at  length  released,  one  of  the  magistrates  sneer- 
ingly  said  to  him,  "Let  France  and  the  French,  and  modern  sub- 
jects alone;  antiquity  offers  such  a  wide  field  for  your  labours." 
It  is  probable  that  no  Turkish  cadi,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  ever 
uttered  a  speech  of  such  insolent  stupidity  as  is  ascribed,  three 
centuries  later,  to  this  magistrate  of  a  polished  nation. 

Various  as  were  the  acquirements  of  Freret,  there  was  in  the 
Bastile,  and  nearly  cotemporaneously  with  him,  a  prisoner,  who 
far  transcended  him  on  that  score,  and  who  possessed  a  splendid 
genius.  Poet,  in  almost  every  style  of  poetry,  dramatist,  histo- 
rian, novelist,  essayist,  philosopher,  controversialist,  and  commen- 
tator, the  universal  Voltaire  was  pre-eminent  in  several  depart- 
ments of  literature,  and  was  below  mediocrity  in  none.  "He 
was,"  says  a  French  author,  "one  of  our  greatest  poets;  the  most 
brilliant,  the  most  elegant,  the  most  fertile,  of  our  prose  writers. 
There  is  not,  in  the  literature  of  any  country,  either  in  verse  or 
in  prose,  an  author  who  has  written  on  so  many  opposite  kinds  of 
subjects,  and  has  so  constantly  displayed  a  superiority  in  all  of 
them."  It  has  been  said  that  Voltaire  is  a  superficial  writer,  but 
this  assertion  is  not  borne  out  by  the  fact.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
wonderful  that  so  gay  and  witty  and  fertile  a  writer,  who  was  so 
much  in  the  whirl  of  society  as  he  was,  should  have  displayed 
such  profound  research,  such  a  vast  command  of  materials,  as 
Voltaire  has  undoubtedly  done. 

As  a  man,  Voltaire  could  be  a  warm  friend,  and  was  a  cham- 
pion of  humanity,  and  a  strenuous  opponent  of  intolerance,  super- 
stition, and  oppression.  From  our  admiration  of  him  a  consider- 
able drawback  must,  however,  be  made,  for  the  readiness  with 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

which  he  lavished  incense  upon  such  worthless  nobles  as  the 
Duke  of  Richelieu ;  for  the  aristocratical  feelings  which  occa- 
sionally peep  out  even  from  among  his  liberal  opinions ;  for  his 
duplicity  in  showering  praises  and  professions  of  kindness  upon 
men  whom  he  was  at  the  same  moment  devoting  to  ridicule ;  for 
his  meanness  in  stooping  to  falsehood,  whenever  he  feared  that 
avowing  the  truth  would  expose  him  to  inconvenience;  for  his 
inflammable  passions,  which  so  often  blinded  his  reason;  for  the 
sleepless  animosity  with  which  he  strove  to  hunt  down,  disgrace, 
and  crush  whoever  had  offended  him;  for  his  obscenity  and  nau- 
seating indelicacy ;  and  for  the  fury  with  which  he  attacked  objects 
which,  in  all  ages,  wise  and  good  men  have  held  sacred. 

Voltaire,  whose  family  name  was  Arouet,  was  born  in  1694,  at 
Chatenay,  and  received  a  thorough  education  at  the  Jesuits'  Col- 
lege in  the  French  capital.  One  of  his  tutors  predicted  that  he 
would  be  the  Coryphaeus  of  deism  in  France ;  and  the  society 
which  the  youthful  poet  frequented,  elegant,  but  immeasurably 
licentious  and  irreligious,  was  not  likely  to  falsify  the  prediction. 
His  father  destined  him  for  a  place  in  the  magistracy,  but  the 
literary  propensity  of  the  son  was  unconquerable.  In  his  twenty- 
second  year  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile,  by  the  regent  Duke  of 
Orleans,  on  an  unfounded  suspicion  of  his  being  the  author  of  a 
libel.  It  was  while  he  was  in  prison  that  he  formed  the  plan  of 
the  Henriade,  and  completed  the  tragedy  of  CEdipus.  He  was 
in  the  Bastile  above  a  year  before  the  regent  recognized  his  inno- 
cence, and  set  him  free.  The  regent  desired  to  see  him,  and  the 
Marquis  de  Noce  was  ordered  to  introduce  him.  While  they 
were  waiting  in  the  ante-chamber,  a  circumstance  occurred  which 
strongly  marks  the  profaneness  and  indiscretion  of  Voltaire.  A 
violent  storm  burst  over  Paris,  upon  which  the  poet  looked  up  at 
the  clouds  and  exclaimed,  "If  it  were  a  regent  that  governed 
above,  things  could  not  be  managed  worse."  When  de  Noce 
presented  him  to  the  duke,  he  said,  "Here,  your  highness,  is 
young  Arouet,  whom  you  have  just  taken  out  of  the  Bastile,  and 
whom  you  will  send  back  again,"  and  he  then  repeated  what  had 
been  said.  The  duke,  however,  did  not  send  him  back  again;  he 
laughed  heartily,  and  made  the  offender  a  liberal  present.  "  I 
thank  your  royal  highness  for  taking  care  of  my  board,"  said 
Voltaire,  "  but  I  must  request  that  you  will  not  again  provide  me 
with  lodging." 

CEdipus  was  represented  in  1718,  with  complete  success.  Two 
other  tragedies,  Artemise  and  Mariane,  by  which  it  was  succeeded, 
were  less  fortunate.  The  Duke  of  Orleans  was  dead,  and  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  247 


reins  of  government  were  now  held  by  the  Duke  of  Bourbon. 
Voltaire  having  ventured  to  resent  a  dastardly  insult  offered  to 
him  by  the  worthless  Chevalier  de  Rohan-Chabot,  the  chevalier 
thought  it  safer  to  imprison  his  adversary  than  to  meet  him  in  the 
field.  His  friends  applied  to  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  raised 
his  anger  by  showing  him  an  epigram  which  the  poet  had  com- 
posed on  him.  Their  plan  was  successful;  Voltaire  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Bastile,  and  remained  there  for  six  months.  This 
act  of  injustice  induced  him  to  take  up  his  residence  in  England. 
In  this  country  he  lived  for  three  years,  was  flatteringly  received 
by  many  illustrious  characters,  and  obtained  a  splendid  subscrip- 
tion for  the  Henriade.  The  produce  of  this  subscription  formed 
the  basis  of  that  large  fortune  which  he  subsequently  obtained  by 
various  lucky  speculations.  In  1728  he  returned  to  his  native 
land,  and,  between  that  year  and  1740,  he  produced  his  tragedies 
of  Zara,  Alzira,  Mahomet,  and  Merope,  and  many  other  works, 
was  admitted  into  the  French  Academy,  and  was  appointed  gen- 
tleman in  ordinary  of  the  king's  bed-chamber,  and  historiographer 
of  France. 

In  1750  Voltaire  accepted  an  invitation  to  Berlin,  which  was 
given  to  him  by  the  King  of  Prussia.  For  a  while  the  sovereign 
and  the  poet  were  on  the  most  amicable  terms;  but,  in  1753,  their 
friendship  was  broken,  and  Voltaire  quitted  the  Prussian  dominions 
in  disgust.  Paris,  in  consequence  of  the  intrigues  of  his  enemies, 
being  no  longer  an  eligible  abode  for  him,  he  lived  for  short 
periods  at  Geneva  and  other  places,  and  at  length  purchased  an 
estate  at  Ferney,  in  the  Pays  de  Gex,  on  which  he  finally  settled. 
There,  in  possession  of  an  ample  fortune,  and  surrounded  by 
friends,  he  gave  free  scope  to  his  indefatigable  pen.  In  April, 
1778,  he  went  once  more  to  Paris,  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
thirty  years.  He  was  received  with  almost  a  frenzy  of  enthu- 
siasm, his  bust  was  crowned  on  the  stage,  and  was  placed  by  the 
academicians  next  to  that  of  Corneille.  These  honours,  however, 
he  did  not  long  enjoy,  for  he  expired  on  the  30th  of  May ;  his  death 
is  supposed  to  have  been  hastened  by  an  over-dose  of  laudanum, 
which  he  took  to  calm,  the  pain  occasioned  by  strangury,  and  to 
procure  sleep,  of  which  he  had  long  been  deprived.  In  the  edition 
of  Beaumarchais,  the  collected  works  of  Voltaire  form  seventy 
volumes. 

By  the  detection  of  the  Cellamare  conspiracy  in  1718,  a  large 
accession  of  prisoners  fell  to  the  share  of  the  Bastile.  Wounded 
female  pride  had  the  chief  share  in  getting  up  that  conspiracy. 
The  Duchess  of  Maine  was  the  prime  mover.  This  princess, 


248  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

whose  small  frame  was  animated  by  a  high  and  restless  spirit, 
had  seen  her  family  degraded  in  a  manner  which  it  was  not  un- 
natural that  she  should  violently  resent.  By  an  edict,  dated  in 
1710,  Louis  XIV.  not  only  granted  to  the  Duke  of  Maine,  and  his 
other  legitimated  children,  the  same  rank  and  honours  which  were 
enjoyed  by  princes  of  the  blood,  but  also  declared  them  capable 
of  inheriting  the  crown,  on  failure  of  descendants  in  the  legitimate 
branches.  This  step  was  highly  offensive  to  the  French  peers, 
and  was  opposed  by  the  parliament ;  but,  while  the  king  lived, 
resistance  was  unavailing.  But  the  scene  was  about  to  change. 
Though  Louis  had  reinforced  his  decree  by  a  declaration  in  1714, 
and  by  a  clause  in  his  testament,  his  death  soon  afforded  another 
proof  of  the  little  respect  that  is  paid  to  a  deceased  despot.  The 
will,  as  every  one  knows,  was  set  aside,  without  a  voice  being 
heard  in  support  of  it.  In  J717,  at  the  instance  of  the  Duke  of 
Bourbon,  and  the  peers,  the  council  of  regency  deprived  the  legiti- 
mated princes  of  all  the  privileges  of  princes  of  the  blood,  with  the 
exception  of  a  seat  in  the  parliament.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
Duchess  of  Maine  and  her  partisans  moved  heaven  and  earth  to 
avert  this  blow ;  all  their  writings,  speeches,  and  manoeuvres,  were 
entirely  thrown  away.  It  must,  however,  be  owned  that  the 
duchess  displayed  wonderful  talent  and  industry  on  this  occasion ; 
while  the  struggle  continued,  she  was  constantly  to  be  seen  half 
buried  in  a  pile  of  dusty  volumes,  records,  and  other  documents, 
in  which  she  sought  arguments  and  examples  to  support  her 
cause.  When  the  dreaded  blow  was  finally  struck,  her  passion 
rose  to  the  highest  pitch.  "  There  is  nothing  left  to  me  now," 
exclaimed  she  to  her  more  patient  husband,  "  but  the  shame  of 
having  married  you !"  In  the  following  year  fresh  fuel  was 
heaped  upon  the  flame.  The  Duke  of  Maine  was  reduced  to 
take  rank  below  all  the  peers,  except  those  who  were  created 
posterior  to.  1694,  and  was  likewise  divested  of  the  tutorship  of 
the  young  king,  which  was  assumed  by  the  Duke  of  Bourbon. 
This  gave  rise  to  another  outbreak  of  passion  on  the  part  of  the 
duchess,  who,  on  receiving  notice  to  give  up  to  the  triumphant 
Bourbon  the  official  apartments  in  the  Tuileries,  broke  the  glasses, 
the  china,  and  everything  which  she  had  strength  enough  to  de- 
stroy. Thus  stung  to  the  quick,  she  resorted  to  conspiracy  for 
vengeance,  and  she  speedily  rallied  round  her  a  band  of  subaltern 
intriguers  and  discontented  politicians.  To  expel  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  from  the  regency,  and  place  the  government  under  the 
tutelage  of  Philip  V.  of  Spain,  was  the  design  of  the  plotters. 
The  Spanish  monarch,  who  detested  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  249 

who,  in  spite  of  his  renunciation,  had  still  views  on  the  French 
crown,  was  by  no  means  averse  from  forwarding  the  scheme  of 
the  duchess. "  The  correspondence  was  carried  on  through  the 
Prince  de  Cellamare,  the  Spanish  ambassador  at  Paris.  The 
Duke  of  Orleans  was,  however,  not  in  the  dark  with  respect  to 
these  proceedings  ;  they  were  betrayed  to  him  by  some  of  the 
parties  concerned;  and  as  soon  as  the  proof  was  complete,  the  whole 
of  the  offenders  were  arrested.  The  Duchess  of  Maine  was  sent 
to  the  castle  of  Dijon,  and  allowed  only  one  female  servant  to  at- 
tend her;  the  duke  was  closely  confined  in  the  citadel  of  Dourlens ; 
the  Abbe  Brigault,  the  Marquis  of  Pompadour,  the  Count  of  Laval, 
the  Chevalier  Menil,  Malezieu,  Mademoiselle  de  Launay,  and 
many  more,  found  lodgings  in  the  Bastile ;  and  Vincennes  and 
other  prisons  received  their  share  of  captives.  Of  De  Launay  and 
Malezieu  some  account  shall  be  given;  the  rest  deserve  no  record. 

The  Baroness  de  Staal,  whose  maiden  name  was  de  Launay, 
was  born  at  Paris  in  1693.  Her  father  was  a  painter,  who  was 
compelled  to  retire  to  England  before  her  birth ;  her  mother,  who 
seems  not  to  have  been  overburdened  with  maternal  feelings, 
found  with  her  infant  a  retreat  in  a  convent  at  Rouen.  Even  in 
infancy,  De  Launay  manifested  the  dawning  of  a  very  superior 
intellect,  and  her  manners  were  so  fascinating  that  she  became 
the  darling  of  the  convent.  She  had  an  extreme  longing  for 
knowledge,  her  questions  were  incessant,  and,  as  all  the  nuns  were 
eager  to  gratify  and  improve  her,  she  soon  acquired  a  larger  and 
more  valuable  stock  of  ideas  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  children  in 
general.  Among  her  friends  in  the  convent  was  Madame  de 
Grieu,  who,  on  being  nominated  Prioress  of  St.  Louis  at  Rouen, 
took  the  child  with  her  to  her  new  abode.  "  The  convent  of  St. 
Louis,"  says  Madame  de  Staal,  "  was  like  a  little  state  in  which  I 
reigned  sovereignly."  The  abbess  and  her  sister  enjoyed  a  small 
pension  from  their  family,  which  they  devoted  to  the  payment  of 
masters  for  their  favourite.  By  the  time  that  she  was  fourteen, 
De  Launay  had  studied  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  and  pondered 
over  the  speculations  of  Malebranche,  and,  not  long  after,  she 
turned  her  attention  to  the  science  of  geometry. 

Her  intellectual  powers  and  her  winning  qualities  brought  many 
admirers  around  her;  among  whom  were  the  Abbe  de  Vertot,  M. 
Brunnel,  and  M.  Rey.  None  of  them,  however,  made  any  im- 
pression on  her  heart.  With  respect  to  the  passion  of  M.  Rey, 
she  makes  one  of  those  quiet  yet  piquant  remarks,  which  are  so 
common  in  her  Memoirs.  He  was  accustomed  to  escort  her  back 
to  the  convent,  when  she  had  been  visiting  some  neighbouring 


250  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

friends.  "  We  had  to  pass  through  a  large  open  space,"  says 
she, «'  and  at  the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance,  he  used  to  take 
his  way  along  the  sides.  I  found  now,  that  he  crossed  over  the 
middle  of  it;  from  which  I  concluded,  that  his  love  was  at  least 
diminished  in  the  proportion  of  the  difference  between  the  diagonal 
and  the  two  sides  of  a  square."  It  was  not  long  ere  she  ceased 
to  be  able  to  speak  of  love  in  a  sportive  tone.  She  became  deeply 
enamoured  of  the  Marquis  de  Silly,  the  brother  of  a  friend.  He 
respected  her,  and  acted  the  part  of  a  counselor,  and  almost  a 
brother,  but  he  could  not  return  her  affection;  and  the  unfortunate 
fair  one  has  touchingly  described  the  sufferings  she  endured  from 
her  idolatrous  and  hopeless  passion.  Years  elapsed  before  it  was 
eradicated. 

This  woe  was  aggravated  by  another.  The  death  of  the  prior- 
ess, Madame  de  Grieu,  in  1710,  obliged  her  to  quit  the  convent, 
and  threw  her  without  resources  on  the  world.  She  accompanied 
to  Paris  the  sister  of  her  late  patroness,  and  found  a  temporary 
refuge  in  the  Presentation  convent.  To  the  purses  of  her  friends 
she  resolutely  determined  to  make  no  appeal,  while  her  means  of 
repayment  were  uncertain,  but  rather  to  welcome  servitude  than 
forfeit  her  self-estimation.  Her  finances  and  hopes  were  almost 
at  the  lowest  ebb,  when  the  report  of  her  astonishing  abilities 
reached  the  gay,  frivolous,  and  volatile  Duchess  of  la  Ferte.  The 
duchess  was  delighted  with  the  idea  of  getting  possession  of,  and 
exhibiting,  what  in  fashionable  cant  phrase  is  called  "  a  lion." 
She  could  not  rest  till  the  new  wonder  was  brought  to  her;  an 
event  which  was  somewhat  retarded  by  the  necessity  under  which 
Mademoiselle  de  Launay  was  placed,  of  borrowing  decent  clothes 
to  appear  in.  The  duchess  was  one  of  those  persons  who  are  apt 
to  take  sudden  and  violent  likings,  and  she  instantly  pronounced 
her  to  be  an  absolute  prodigy.  She  lauded  her  without  measure 
in  all  quarters,  hurried  her  about  from  place  to  place,  and  showed 
her  off,  much  in  the  same  way  that  a  remarkably  clever  monkey 
is  managed  by  an  itinerant  exhibitor  of  wild  beasts.  Madame  de 
Staal  has  given  an  account,  which  is  at  once  ludicrous  and  painful, 
of  what  she  endured  at  this  period.  Fortunately  for  her,  she  be- 
came acquainted  with  men  of  talent,  and  acquired  some  valuable 
friends,  among  whom  were  Fontenelle  and  Malezieu. 

Disappointed  in  her  hopes  of  being  received  into  the  household 
of  the  Duchess  of  La  Ferte,  or  of  obtaining  an  establishment  else- 
where through  her  means,  De  Launay  accepted  an  offer  from  the 
Duchess  of  Maine,  to  whom  she  had  been  introduced.  This  de- 
fection, as  it  was  deemed,  threw  her  late  patroness  into  a  paroxysm 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  251 

of  rage.  Her  new  situation  was  an  unenviable  one.  She  filled 
the  place  of  a  lady's  maid,  who  had  retired;  her  apartment  was  a 
wretched  low  closet,  in  which  it  was  impossible  to  move  about  in 
an  upright  posture,  and  which  had  neither  chimney  nor  window ; 
and  her  chief  occupation  was  to  make  up  shifts,  in  which  she 
confesses  herself  to  have  been  so  inexpert,  that  when  the  duchess 
came  to  put  on  some  of  her  handywork,  she  found  in  the  arm 
what  ought  to  have  been  in  the  elbow.  By  the  duchess,  and  all 
the  upper  classes  in  the  house,  she  was  utterly  neglected,  as  a 
mere  drudge ;  by  those  of  her  own  class,  she  was  envied,  hated, 
and  persecuted,  for  her  natural  superiority  over  them.  Life  at 
last  became  a  burthen,  and  there  was  a  moment  when  she  seri- 
ously meditated  the  commission  of  suicide. 

A  happy  chance  lifted  her  at  once  from  this  slough  of  despond 
into  her  proper  sphere.  There  was  an  exceedingly  beautiful 
female,  named  Testard,  who  laid  claim  to  supernatural  powers ; 
by  desire  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  Fontenelle  had  visited  her,  and, 
prejudiced  by  her  charms,  is  said  to  have  manifested  too  much 
faith  in  her.  The  folly  of  a  philosopher,  who  was  not  remarkable 
for  believing  too  much,  excited  a  loud  clamour.  "  You  had  better 
write  to  M.  de  Fontenelle,  to  let  him  hear  what  everybody  is  talk- 
ing against  him  about  Testard;"  said  the  duchess  one  day  to  her 
despised  attendant.  De  Launay  did  write  ;  and  her  letter,  though 
brief,  was  such  a  finished  composition,  such  an  admirable  mixture 
of  delicate  reproof  and  delicate  praise,  that,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days,  innumerable  copies  of  it  were  spread  throughout  Paris. 
She,  meanwhile,  was  unconscious  of  the  effect  which  she  had  pro- 
duced, till  she  was  apprised  of  it  by  the  duchess's  visitors,  who 
overwhelmed  her  with  compliments  and  attentions. 

From  this  time  Mademoiselle  de  Launay  was  looked  upon  by 
the  duchess  as  a  person  whose  opinion  was  of  some  consequence, 
and  was  admitted  into  her  parties,  and  enjoyed  her  confidence. 
She  now  shared  with  Malezieu  the  task  of  supplying  plans  and 
verses  for  the  spectacles  at  Sceaux.  Her  literary  connections  be- 
came more  widely  extended,  and  she  had  no  lack  of  lovers.  Among 
those  who  paid  the  most  devoted  homage  to  her  was  the  Abbe  de 
Chaulieu ;  the  passion,  as  she  herself  hints,  could  have  been  only 
platonic,  for  he  was  then  verging  on  eighty,  but  she  owns  that  she 
had  "  a  despotic  authority  over  everything  in  his  house."  It  must, 
however,  be  mentioned  to  her  honour,  that  she  displayed  a  rare 
disinterestedness,  and  steadily  refused  presents  from  him,  which 
would  have  tempted  a  woman  of  a  common  mind,  especially  under 
De  Launay 's  circumstances.  The  princely  gift  of  a  thousand 


252  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

pistoles,  which  the  Abbe  offered,  would  have  saved  her  from 
slavery,  endured  night  after  night,  of  reading  a  duchess  to  sleep, 
while  her  own  health  was  endangered  by  want  of  rest. 

In  the  memorial  which  the  Duchess  of  Maine  drew  up  in  behalf 
of  the  legitimated  princes,  she  was  assisted  by  De  Launay.  "  I 
turned  over,"  says  the  latter,  "  the  old  chronicles,  and  the  ancient 
and  modern  jurisconsults,  till  excessive  fatigue  disposed  the 
princess  to  rest.  Then  came  my  reading,  to  lull  her  to  sleep ;  and 
then  I  went  to  seek  for  slumber,  which,  however,  I  never  found!" 

In  the  proceedings  of  the  duchess,  with  respect  to  the  Cellamare 
conspiracy,  she  was  deeply  implicated;  a  part  at  least  of  the  cor- 
respondence passed  through  her  hands.  Her  good  sense  antici- 
pated, long  before  the  event,  what  would  be  the  final  result.  The 
storm  burst  at  last.  She  was  arrested  on  the  19th  of  December, 
1718,  and,  three  days  after,  was  committed  to  the  Bastile.  With 
a  truly  philosophical  spirit  she  soon  became  reconciled  to  her  fate. 
Luckily,  she  had  an  invaluable  companion  in  her  maid  Rondel, 
faithful,  affectionate,  and  acute,  the  very  model  of  domestics.  But 
it  must  not  be  concealed,  that  she  had  another  consolation,  to 
lighten  her  prison  hours.  She  inspired  two  persons  with  an 
ardent  attachment.  One  of  these  was  a  fellow-prisoner,  on  the 
Cellamare  score,  the  Chevalier  de  Menil ;  the  other  was  the  king's 
lieutenant  in  the  fortress,  M.  de  Maisonrouge.  Reason  would 
have  chosen  the  latter  as  the  proper  object  of  fondness;  but  her 
wayward  heart  decided  in  favour  of  the  former.  No  writer  has 
ever  imagined  a  more  elevated,  devoted,  self-sacrificing  passion 
than  that  of  Maisonrouge.  He  lived  and  breathed  but  for  her; 
ever  watchful  to  forerun  all  her  wishes,  having  no  delight  but  to 
behold  and  converse  with  her,  he  had  even  the  magnanimity  to 
convey  her  letters  to  Menil,  and  to  bring  about  interviews,  when 
he  found  that  her  heart  was  irrevocably  bestowed  on  him.  The 
catastrophe  is  painful.  The  favoured  Menil,  who  had  solemnly 
pledged  himself  to  make  her  his  wife,  was  no  sooner  set  free  than 
he  proved  faithless  to  his  vows.  The  noble-minded  and  unfortu- 
nate Maisonrouge  never  recovered  the  shock  which  he  sustained 
from  his  loss;  he  died  the  victim  of  his  unrequited  love. 

The  confinement  of  Mademoiselle  de  Launay  was  continued 
for  two  years;  she  was  the  last  to  be  liberated.  Her  imprison- 
ment was  protracted  by  her  repeated  resolute  refusals  to  confess 
anything  that  could  tend  to  derogate  from  the  safety  and  character 
of  the  Duchess  of  Maine.  She  persisted  in  this  course  even  after 
she  had  the  duchess's  permission  to  speak  out,  and  she  was  re- 
leased at  last  after  having  made  only  an  imperfect  confession. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  253 

This  heroic  conduct  gained,  as  it  deserved,  universal  praise.  It 
is  mortifying  to  relate  that,  after  her  sufferings,  she  was  received 
by  the  duchess  without  that  warm  greeting  which  she  had  a  right 
to  expect.  The  duchess  even  carried  her  indifference  so  far  as 
to  let  her  remain  almost  in  rags,  all  her  clothes  having  been  worn 
out  in  the  Bastile.  Yet  she  would  not  hear  of  her  quitting  Sceaux, 
and  when  Dacier,  who  was  rich,  would  have  married  De  Launay, 
she  frustrated  the  negotiation,  in  the  dread  of  losing  her.  At 
length,  when  her  ill-used  and  exhausted  dependent  was  meditating 
to  retire  into  a  convent,  the  duchess  bestirred  herself,  and  brought 
about  a  union  with  the  Baron  de  Staal,  a  half-pay  Swiss  officer. 
The  baroness  was  now  admitted  to  all  the  honours  enjoyed  by  the 
highest  ladies  in  the  household ;  and  from  this  period  till  her  de- 
cease in  1750,  she  was  comparatively  happy. 

Nicholas  de  Malezieu,  a  native  of  Paris,  wras  born  in  1650. 
Like  Madame  de  Staal,  he  possessed  much  talent,  and,  like  her, 
he  displayed  it  in  childhood.  By  the  time  that  he  was  four  years 
old  he  had,  with  scarcely  any  assistance,  taught  himself  to  read 
and  write,  and  at  twelve  years  of  age  had  gone  through  a  com- 
plete course  of  philosophy.  His  merit  gained  for  him  the  friend- 
ship of  Bossuet,  and  the  Duke  of  Montausier,  and  so  highly  did 
those  eminent  men  rate  it,  that  they  recommended  him  as  tutor  to 
the  Duke  of  Maine.  Fenelon  was  subsequently  added  to  the  list 
of  his  friends,  and,  notwithstanding  the  breach  between  that 
amiable  prelate  and  Bossuet,  he  retained  the  good- will  of  both. 
He  seems,  too,  to  have  lived  in  harmony  with  all  the  principal 
cotemporary  authors.  The  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Maine  with 
the  high-spirited  and  intelligent  granddaughter  of  the  great 
Conde  drew  still  closer  the  ties  which  bound  Malezieu  to  the 
family  of  the  duke.  His  learning  embraced  a  wide  circle ;  he 
was  a  proficient  in  mathematics,  elegant  literature,  Greek,  and 
Hebrew,  and  his  extemporary  translations  from  the  Greek  drama- 
tists and  poets,  and  his  illustrations  and  comments  on  them,  are 
said  to  have  been  delivered  with  a  degree  of  eloquence  which 
excited  universal  admiration.  The  duchess  listened  to  his  in- 
structions with  delight.  It  is  therefore  not  wonderful,  that  he 
acquired  an  almost  unbounded  influence  in  the  ducal  palace. 
«*  The  decisions  of  M.  Malezieu,"  says  Madame  de  Staal,  "  were 
thought  as  infallible  as  were  those  of  Pythagoras  among  his  dis- 
ciples. The  warmest  disputes  were  at  an  end  the  moment  any 
one  pronounced  the  words,  'He  said  it.'"  There  was  another 
reason  which  had,  perhaps,  no  small  effect  in  rendering  him  a 
favourite  with  the  duchess.  He  was  not  one  of  those  stately  per- 


254  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

sonages  who  think  that  it  derogates  from  their  dignity  to  attend  to 
graceful  trifles.  The  duchess  was  fond  of  giving  magnificent 
spectacles  and  entertainments,  and  having  plays  acted,  at  Sceaux, 
where  she  held  a  sort  of  miniature  court.  Malezieu  had  the 
management  of  them,  and  when  verses,  and  sometimes  pieces, 
were  wanted,  his  ready  pen  was  called  in  to  supply  them.  From 
these  light  occupations  he  was  taken  away  for  a  time,  to  become 
mathematical  preceptor  to  the  youthful  Duke  of  Burgundy;  in 
this  task  he  was  for  four  years  engaged,  and  he  performed  it  in 
a  manner  which  enhanced  his  reputation.  The  lessons  which  he 
gave  to  his  royal  pupil  were  afterwards  published,  under  the  title 
of  "Elements  of  Geometry."  The  days  of  Malezieu  were  spent 
in  uninterrupted  tranquillity,  till  the  period  when  the  duchess 
rashly  plunged  into  intrigues  with  the  Spanish  court.  It  was  not 
unnatural  that  he  should  espouse  warmly  the  cause  of  his  noble 
patrons,  and  he  was  perhaps  Jed  to  the  verge  of  treason  before  he 
was  aware.  His  heaviest  offence  seems  to  have  been  his  writing, 
at  the  request  of  the  Duchess  of  Maine,  sketches  of  two  letters 
against  the  Duke  of  Orleans  which  were  to  be  sent  to  the  Spanish 
monarch,  for  the  purpose  of  being  addressed  by  him  to  Louis  XV. 
and  the  parliaments.  Malezieu  long  persisted  in  denying  the 
fact,  and  asserting  the  innocence  of  his  employer,  and  for  this 
persistency  he  was  kept  in  the  Bastile  after  the  whole  of  the 
plotters,  with  the  exception  of  himself  and  De  Launay,  had  been 
discharged.  It  was  not  till  he  knew  that  proof  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  government,  and  the  duchess  had  confessed,  that  he  avowed 
the  authorship  of  the  letters.  He  was  then  released,  but  was 
exiled  for  six  months  to  Etampes.  His  decease  took  place  in 
1727. 

There  remains  yet  another  person  who  suffered  by  the  Cella- 
mare  conspiracy,  though  he  was  not  one  of  its  agents.  He  had 
the  fate  of  the  unlucky  stork  in  the  fable,  who  got  into  dangerous 
company.  Bargeton,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  advocates  of  the 
parliament  of  Paris,  was  born  about  1675,  at  Uzes,  in  Languedoc. 
If  he  was  not  of  humble  birth,  his  parents  at  least  were  poor;  for, 
before  he  had  emerged  from  obscurity,  all  relationship  with  him 
was  disclaimed  by  a  Languedocian  family  which  claimed  to  be 
noble.  When,  however,  his  fortune  and  fame  were  established, 
one  of  that  family  was  anxious  to  prove  his  consanguinity  with  the 
formerly  despised  advocate,  and  hoped  to  flatter  him,  by  descant- 
ing on  the  antiquity  of  their  common  origin.  Bargeton  cut  short 
the  harangue  of  his  would-be  kinsman.  "As  you  are  a  gentle- 
man by  birth,"  said  he,  "it  is  impossible  that  we  can  be  relations." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  255 

Bargeton  was  the  law  adviser  of  some  of  the  highest  personages 
of  the  kingdom.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Maine  placed  entire 
confidence  in  him.  This  circumstance  gave  rise  to  suspicion  that 
he  was  connected  with  the  Cellamare  plot,  and  he  was  conse- 
quently committed  to  the  Bastile.  In  a  short  time  his  innocence 
was  recognized,  and  he  was  set  at  liberty. 

The  legal  reputation  of  Bargeton,  hoth  as  a  civilian  and  com- 
mon lawyer,  induced  Machault,  the  comptroller-general  of  finances, 
to  apply  to  him,  in  1749,  for  assistance.  The  clergy  had  hitherto 
contributed  to  the  wants  of  the  state  only  by  voluntary  gifts;  and, 
of  course,  asserted  the  privilege  of  not  being  compelled  to  contri- 
bute at  all.  Machault  determined  to  put  an  end  to  this  pretended 
privilege,  by  subjecting  them,  like  the  rest  of  the  people,  to  the 
payment  of  the  twentieth.  Had  he  succeeded,  his  success  would 
have  put  an  end  to  one  of  the  abuses  which  contributed  to  produce 
the  Revolution,  and,  most  probably,  would  at  length  have  caused 
the  downfall  of  another  equally  crying  abuse  with  respect  to  the 
nobles.  Though  Bargeton  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  the 
clergy  had  no  right  to  an  exemption  from  imposts,  yet,  being 
aware  that  the  firmness  of  Louis  XV.  was  not  to  be  relied  on,  he 
advised  Machault  either  to  prohibit  the  ecclesiastics  from  holding 
meetings,  or  to  decline  a  contest  with  them.  "I  have  the  king's 
promise  to  stand  by  me,"  said  Machault.  "He  will  break  it," 
replied  the  advocate,  who,  in  this  instance,  proved  to  be  a  prophet. 
Bargeton,  nevertheless,  lent  his  aid  to  the  comptroller-general,  and 
wrote  a  series  of  admirable  letters,  on  the  subject  of  the  clerical 
immunity.  His  labour  was  in  vain.  Unchangeable  in  nothing 
but  sensuality  and  despotism,  the  king  yielded;  the  clergy  tri- 
umphed ;  and  the  letters  of  Bargeton  were  suppressed  by  an  order 
of  council.  The  author  did  not  live  to  witness  this  event ;  he 
died  early  in  1753,  before  his  work  had  passed  through  the  press. 

The  suspicion  of  carrying  on  an  improper  correspondence  with 
Spain,  though  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  connected  with  the 
Duchess  of  Maine's  party,  gave  another  prisoner  to  the  Bastile. 
Nicholas  Mahudel,  who  was  born  at  Langres,  in  1673,  was  by 
profession  a  physician ;  but  his  celebrity  was  acquired  by  his  pro- 
ifound  knowledge  of  history  and  numismatics.  So  extensive  were 
his  talents  and  information  upon  those  subjects,  that  he  was  chosen 
a  member  of  the  Academy  of  Inscriptions,  and  he  took  a  very 
active  part  in  the  proceedings  of  that  learned  body.  His  servant 
having  betrayed  to  the  police  some  letters  which  his  master  had 
written  to  Spain,  at  the  period  when  all  intercourse  with  that 
country  was  looked  upon  with  a  jealous  eye,  the  consequence  was, 


256  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

that  Mahudel  was  lodged  in  the  Bastile  for  several  months.  It 
was  while  he  was  in  prison  that  he  wrote  his  "History  of  Me- 
dallions," of  which  only  four  copies  were  printed.  His  other 
productions  are  chiefly  dissertations  on  medals,  and  on  historical 
questions.  He  died  in  1747. 

It  has  seldom  happened  that  a  captive  has  been  reluctant  to 
quit  his  prison.  Such  an  uncommon  anomaly,  did,  however,  ac- 
tually occur  with  respect  to  an  individual  who  was  implicated  in 
the  Cellamare  plot.  Five  years  had  elapsed  since  the  discomfi- 
ture of  that  plot,  and  the  government  believed  that  all  who  were 
connected  with  it  had  been  released,  when  it  was  by  mere  chance 
discovered  that  one  of  them,  the  Marquis  de  Bon  Repos,  had  been 
left  in  the  Bastile  by  mistake.  Bon  Repos,  an  aged  officer,  who, 
notwithstanding  his  title,  was  miserably  poor,  was  anything  but 
grateful  for  his  proffered  release.  He  had  become  habituated  to 
confinement,  and  was  rejoiced  to  be  safe  from  want,  and  he  mani- 
fested a  strong  dislike  to  "a  crust  of  bread  and  liberty."  It  was 
not  without  much  murmuring  that  he  consented  to  change  his 
quarters  in  the  Bastile  for  others  in  the  Hotel  des  Invalides. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  tremendous  explosion  of 
the  Mississippi  scheme,  which  spread  ruin  over  France,  would 
have  filled  the  prisons  with  real  or  imagined  offenders.  But  this 
was  not  the  case.  Law  himself,  more  unfortunate  and  imprudent 
perhaps  than  criminal,  received  a  passport  from  the  regent,  and 
reached  Brussels  in  safety.  The  only  persons  who  appear  to 
have  at  all  suffered,  were  his  brother,  William  Law,  and  two  of 
the  directors,  who  were  sent  for  a  short  time  to  the  Bastile. 

The  next  remarkable  inmate  of  the  Bastile,  the  Count  de  Horn, 
a  Flemish  noble,  was  no  less  infamous  by  crime  than  he  was 
illustrious  by  birth.  He  was  allied  to  several  princely  houses, 
and  could  even  claim  relationship  with  the  regent  Duke  of  Or- 
leans. So  thoroughly  had  he  disgraced  himself,  by  his  fraudulent 
and  debauched  conduct,  that  at  the  very  time  when  he  was  medi- 
tating the  atrocity  which  drew  on  him  the  vengeance  of  the  law, 
his  family  had  dispatched  a  gentleman  to  pay  his  debts,  to  request 
his  expulsion  from  Paris,  and  to  bring  him  back,  by  force  if  ne- 
cessary, to  his  own  country.  Their  agent  arrived  too  late.  Some 
of  the  count's  freaks,  disgraceful  as  they  were,  might  have  been 
charitably  ascribed  to  the  licentious  manners  of  the  age,  and  the 
turbulent  passions  of  a  youth  of  twenty-two,  had  he  not  been 
guilty  of  a  crime  which  proved  that  his  heart  was  still  more  faulty 
than  his  head. 

The  two  indiscretions — if  so  mild  a  name  may  be  given  to  them 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  257 

— for  which  the  Count  de  Horn  was  sent  to  the  Bastile,  were  not 
too  harshly  punished  by  his  imprisonment;  as  they  manifested  a 
degree  of  brutality  which  was  ominous  of  worse  deeds.  In  com- 
pany with  some  of  his  libertine  companions,  he  was  passing  the 
cloisters  of  St.  Germain,  where  a  corpse  was  waiting  for  interment. 
"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  Get  up !"  he  exclaimed  to  the  body, 
which  was  lying  uncovered.  He  seconded  his  speech  by  striking 
the  corpse  several  blows  with  his  sword,  and  overturning  it  among 
the  sacred  vessels,  which  were  placed  in  readiness  for  the  funeral 
service. 

As  no  notice  was  taken  of  this  outrage,  he  was  emboldened  to 
make  the  church  of.  St.  Germain  once  more  the  scene  of  his 
exploits.  It  is  necessary  to  mention  that,  at  the  period  in  ques- 
tion, almost  the  whole  population  of  Paris  was  labouring  under 
the  epidemic  madness  of  the  famous  Mississippi  scheme.  An 
ordinance  relative  to  bank  notes  had  just  been  issued  by  the 
government,  and  a  hawker  was  crying  it  for  sale  in  the  street. 
From  this  man  the  count  purchased  a  copy  of  the  ordinance,  and 
gave  him  a  crown  for  it,  on  condition  of  his  placing  a  large  stone 
at  the  great  door  of  the  church.  On  this  stone  De  Horn  mounted, 
and  while  high  mass  was  being  celebrated  within  the  building,  he 
thundered  out  the  anthem  which  is  sung  when  the  dead  are  com- 
mitted to  the  ground,  and  he  concluded  by  proclaiming  the  burial 
of  bank  notes.  This  second  insult  to  public  decency  was  too 
much  to  be  borne ;  the  priest  laid  his  complaint  before  the  govern- 
ment, and  the  offender  was  conveyed  to  the  Bastile. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  youthful  profligate  was  set  at 
liberty.  But  his  brief  imprisonment  had  worked  no  beneficial 
change  upon  him.  It  seems,  indeed,  to  have  had  a  contrary  ef- 
fect. So  slight  a  chastisement  perhaps  induced  him  to  calculate 
upon  impunity  for  greater  crimes.  A  very  short  lime  elapsed 
before  he  dipped  his  hands  in  blood.  In  the  sanguinary  deed 
which  brought  him  to  destruction,  he  had  two  accomplices,  Lau- 
rent de  Mille,  a  half-pay  captain,  and  Lestang,a  youth  of  twenty, 
the  son  of  a  Flemish  banker.  Every  Frenchman,  who  could  any 
how  obtain  the  means  of  speculating,  was  then  busily  engaged  in 
the  Rue  Gluincampoix,  which  was  the  Parisian  stock  exchange. 
De  Horn,  too,  was  there ;  but  his  speculation  was  of  a  more  dia- 
bolical nature  than  that  which  engaged  the  multitude.  Having 
picked  out  a  rich  stock-jobber,  who  was  known  to  carry  about 
with  him  a  large  sum  in  notes,  he  lured  him  by  pretending  to  be 
in  possession  of  shares,  which  he  was  willing  to  sell  considerably 
under  the  market  price.  These  bargains  were  usually  concluded 
17 


258  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


in  a  tavern;  and,  accordingly,  De  Horn  and  his  associates  pro- 
ceeded with  their  unsuspecting  victim  to  a  house  of  that  kind  in 
the  Rue  de  Venise.  There  he  stabbed  the  unfortunate  stock- 
jobber, and  robbed  him  of  his  pocket-book.  He  then,  with  his 
accomplices,  leaped  out  of  the  window,  and  endeavoured  to  make 
his  escape.  Lestang  got  off,  but  the  count  and  the  half-pay  cap- 
tain were  less  fortunate ;  they  were  overtaken,  and  lodged  in 
prison. 

Justice,  on  this  occasion,  was  not  delayed.  The  trial  of  the 
delinquents  followed  close  upon  the  commission  of  the  murder; 
no  circumstance  of  mitigation  could  be  pleaded  in  their  behalf, 
and  they  were  both  condemned  to  be  broken  on  the  wheel.  No 
sooner  did  the  sentence  become  known  than  the  whole  of  the  aris- 
tocratical  class  in  France,  Flanders,  and  Germany,  was  in  commo- 
tion. To  subject  a  nobleman  to  such  a  degrading  punishment 
was  declared  to  be  an  unprecedented  and  abominable  measure. 
The  regent  was  beset  on  all  sides  by  solicitations  for  a  pardon,  or, 
at  least,  for  a  change  in  the  mode  of  executing  the  criminal. 
When  the  first  of  these  boons  was  found  to  be  hopeless,  redoubled 
exertions  were  made  to  obtain  the  second.  Among  the  arguments 
employed  to  move  the  regent,  that  of  the  culprit  being  related  to 
him  was  strongly  urged.  But,  though  Philip  of  Orleans  was 
stained  by  many  vices,  there  were  moments  when  his  better  na- 
ture prevailed,  and  he  was  capable  of  acting  nobly.  To  the  near 
relations  of  the  count,  who  pressed  him  incessantly  on  the  subject, 
he  replied,  "When  I  have  impure  blood  in  my  veins,  I  have  it 
drawn  out."  Then,  quoting  the  sentiment  of  Corneille,  "'tis 
crime  that  brands  with  shame,  and  not  the  scaffold,"  he  added, 
"I  must  share  in  the  disgrace  of  which  you  complain,  and  this 
ought  to  console  the  rest  of  his  kindred."  It  is  said,  however, 
that  he  was  at  length  on  the  point  of  yielding  so  far  as  to  commute 
the  form  of  punishment  for  one  less  obnoxious ;  but  that  Mr.  Law 
and  the  Abbe  Dubois  insisted  on  the  absolute  necessity  of  allow- 
ing justice  to  take  its  course.  Popular  indignation  would,  they 
justly  remarked,  be  roused  by  any  favour  being  shown  to  the  per- 
petrator of  such  a  heinous  offence.  The  regent  acquiesced  in 
their  opinion;  and,  that  he  might  not  be  harassed  by  further  ap- 
peals to  his  clemency,  he  went  privately  to  St.  Cloud,  where  he 
remained  till  the  murderers  were  executed. 

Having  lost  all  hope  from  the  regent,  the  Princes  of  Robecq  and 
Isengheim,  who  were  nearly  allied  to  De  Horn,  tried  a  new  me- 
thod of  evading  the  dreaded  stigma.  They  gained  admission  to 
his  prison,  and  exhorted  him  to  escape  the  wheel,  by  taking  poi- 


.. 
HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTTLE.  259 

son,  which  they  offered.  But  either  religious  scruples,  or  a  lin- 
gering belief  that  he  might  yet  be  pardoned,  induced  him  to  de- 
cline acceding  to  their  wishes.  Finding  that  all  their  entreaties 
and  remonstrances  were  unavailing,  they  quitted  him  in  a  rage, 
exclaiming,  "  Go,  wretch !  you  are  fit  only  to  die  by  the  hand  of 
the  executioner." 

The  firmness  of  the  regent  was  worthy  of  applause.  It  was, 
nevertheless,  looked  upon  as  an  inexpiable  insult  by  the  aristocracy 
in  general,  and  especially  by  the  kinsfolk  of  the  malefactor. 
The  regent  having  directed  that  the  confiscated  property  of  the 
count  should  be  restored  to  the  prince,  his  brother,  the  haughty 
noble  rejected  the  proffered  boon,  and  gave  vent  to  his  high  dis- 
pleasure in  the  following  insolent  letter.  "  I  do  not  complain,  sir, 
of  the  death  of  my  brother;  he  had  committed  so  horrible  a  crime, 
that  there  was  no  punishment  he  did  not  deserve.  But  I  com- 
plain, that,  in  his  person,  you  have  violated  the  rights  of  the  king- 
dom, of  the  nobility,  and  of  nations.  For  the  offer  of  his  confis- 
cated property,  which  you  have  been  pleased  to  make,  I  thank 
you ;  but  I  should  think  myself  as  infamous  as  he  was,  if  I  were 
to  accept  of  the  slightest  favour  from  your  Royal  Highness.  I 
hope  that  God  and  the  king  will,  some  day,  mete  out  to  you  the 
same  rigid  justice  that  you  have  dispensed  to  my  unfortunate  bro- 
ther." 

By  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  in  1723,  all  the  power  of 
the  state  fell  into  the  worthless  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Bourbon. 
The  vices  of  Orleans  had  been  at  least  palliated  by  great  talents, 
some  virtues,  and  a  heart  which,  though  corrupted,  was  not  dead 
to  kind  and  noble  feelings;  but  Bourbon,  harsh  in  disposition, 
rude  in  manners,  repulsive  in  personal  appearance,  and  governed 
by  an  artful  and  profligate  mistress,  had  no  one  good  quality  to 
throw  even  a  faint  lustre  over  his  numerous  defects.  The  sway 
of  Bourbon  lasted  little  more  than  two  years,  and  in  that  brief 
space  of  time,  he  committed  so  many  enormous  political  errors, 
springing  from  ignorance,  presumption,  and  intolerance,  that  the 
kingdom  was  thrown  into  discontent  and  confusion. 

The  minister  of  the  war  department,  Claude  le  Blanc,  was  one 
of  those  who  suffered  by  the  change  which  took  place  on  the  death 
of  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  Le  Blanc  was  born  in  1669,  and  had 
filled  several  important  offices  before  he  became  one  of  the  minis- 
ters. The  machinations  of  his  enemies,  one  of  the  most  inveterate 
of  whom  was  the  Marshal  de  Villeroi,  procured  his  temporary 
banishment  from  court  in  1723,  on  suspicion  of  his  having  parti- 
cipated in  peculation  committed  by  the  treasurer.  He  was  con- 


260  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


fined  in  the  Bastile  by  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  the  parliament 
was  directed  to  bring  him  to  trial.  To  secure  his  conviction,  his 
adversaries  calumniously  asserted,  that  he  had  employed  an  as- 
sassin to  murder  one  of  his  principal  accusers.  The  parliament, 
however,  fully  acquitted  him  of  all  the  charges  which  were  brought 
against  him.  He  was,  nevertheless,  exiled  by  the  duke.  In 
1726,  Cardinal  de  Fleury  placed  him  once  more  at  the  head  of  the 
war  department,  where  he  continued  till  his  decease,  in  1728.  It 
is  in  favour  of  his  character  that  he  died  poor,  and  that  he  was 
beloved  by  the  people. 

Le  Blanc  was  scarcely  restored  to  his  office,  before  his  vacant 
place  in  the  Bastile  was  filled  by  one  who  had  been  among  the 
most  active  of  his  enemies.  Joseph  Paris  Duverney,  a  native  of 
Dauphine,  of  humble  birth,  was  one  of  four  brothers,  all  of  whom 
were  men  of  talent.  A  fortunate  chance  gave  them  the  opportu- 
nity of  exercising  their  talents  in  a  wider  field  than,  considering 
their  primitive  station  in  life,  they  could  have  hoped  to  find. 
They  were  the  sons  of  a  man  who  kept  a  small  solitary  inn  at  the 
foot  of  the  Alps,  and  whom  they  assisted  in  his  business.  The 
Duke  of  Vendome  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  French  army  in 
Italy,  and  all  his  plans  were  rendered  abortive  by  the  failure  of 
supplies.  This  want  of  subsistence  was  caused  by  the  scandalous 
conduct  of  Bouchu,  the  commissary  general.  Bouchu,  who  was 
old,  had  the  folly  to  make  love  to  a  young  girl,  and  she  had  the 
good  sense  to  prefer  his  deputy,  who  had  youth  and  personal  ap- 
pearance on  his  side.  To  revenge  himself  for  this  slight,  Bouchu 
retarded  the  collecting  of  provisions,  in  order  to  throw  the  blame 
on  his  deputy,  who  was  charged  with  the  merely  mechanical  part 
of  the  operations.  Knowing  that  further  delay  would  be  ruin  to 
him,  the  deputy  contrived  to  collect  a  portion  of  the  supplies  that 
were  wanted;  but  he  was  yet  far  from  being  out  of  his  difficulties, 
for  the  Alps  were  interposed  between  him  and  the  French  army, 
and  he  knew  not  where  to  find  in  the  neighbourhood  a  practicable 
pass..  While  he  was  labouring  under  this  embarrassment,  he 
luckily  fell  in  with  the  four  brothers,  and  they  engaged  to  extricate 
him  from  it.  They  were  thoroughly  acquainted  with  every  path 
and  goat  track  in  that  wild  region,  and  they  conducted  the  convoy 
with  so  much  skill,  through  apparently  impassable  ways,  that 
they  reached  the  French  camp  without  having  suffered  the  slight- 
est loss. 

This  service,  for  which  they  were  liberally  rewarded,  laid  the 
foundation  of  their  fortune.  The  contractors  and  commissaries 
employed  them,  and  promoted  them  rapidly ;  and,  at  no  distant 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  361 


time,  the  brothers  became  themselves  contractors,  and  extensive 
commercial  speculators.  Riches  rapidly  flowed  in  upon  them, 
and  they  were  called  to  take  a  share  in  managing  the  finances  of 
the  state.  They  experienced,  however,  a  temporary  eclipse 
during  the  ascendency  of  Law,  to  whom  they  were  hostile,  and 
who  avenged  himself  by  procuring  their  exile  into  Dauphine. 
The  flight  of  Law  put  an  end  to  their  banishment ;  they  returned 
to  Paris,  were  in  higher  credit  than  ever,  and  contributed  much 
to  mitigate  the  evils  which  had  been  caused  by  the  Mississippi 
scheme.  They  continued  to  have  great  weight  in  the  govern- 
ment, till  they  lost  it  in  consequence  of  a  political  intrigue,  in 
which  Joseph  Paris  imprudently  engaged,  with  the  Marchioness 
de  Prie,  the  Duke  of  Bourbon's  mistress.  Their  intent  was  to 
exclude  Cardinal  de  Fleury  from  public  affairs,  and  to  give  the 
duke  an  unbounded  ascendency  over  the  youthful  monarch. 
Fleury  discovered  the  plot ;  the  duke  was  deprived  of  power ;  and 
the  brothers  were  once  more  exiled.  Joseph  was  soon  after  ar- 
rested, at  his  asylum  near  Langres,  and  was  sent  to  the  Bastile, 
where  he  remained  for  nearly  two  years.  In  1730,  however,  he 
recovered  his  influence,  and  he  kept  it  till  his  death  in  1770. 
France  is  indebted  to  Joseph  Duverney  for  the  project  of  the  Royal 
Military  School,  which  was  carried  into  execution  in  1751. 

Two  grandsons  of  the  unfortunate  Fouquet,  the  Count  de  Bel- 
leisle,  and  the  Chevalier  de  Belleisle,  were  involved  in  the  fall  of 
Le  Blanc,  and  were  for  some  time  inmates  of  the  Bastile.  The 
count  was  born  in  1684;  the  chevalier  in  1693.  The  count  had 
acquired  a  high  military  character  in  the  war  of  the  succession, 
and  in  the  Spanish  campaign  of  1719,  when,  with  his  brother,  he 
was  immured  in  a  prison.  After  his  release,  he  served  with  dis- 
tinction in  various  quarters,  and  rose  to  the  rank  of  marshal. 
Cardinal  de  Fleury  placed  entire  confidence  in  his  civil  as  well 
as  his  military  talents.  It  was  not,  however,  till  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war  of  1741  that  his  genius  shone  forth  in  its  full 
lustre.  The  secret  negotiations  for  raising  the  Elector  of  Bavaria 
to  the  dignity  of  emperor  were  carried  on  by  him,  and  on  this 
occasion  he  gave  convincing  proof  of  his  diplomatic  skill.  Placed 
at  the  head  of  the  French  army,  which  was  to  maintain  Charles 
VII.  on  the  throne,  Belleisle  carried  Prague  by  assault.  But 
while,  as  ambassador  extraordinary  of  Louis  XV.,  he  was  secur- 
ing the  election  of  Charles  at  Frankfort,  the  Austrians  threatened 
to  deprive  him  of  his  recent  conquests.  He,  therefore,  hastened 
back  to  his  army,  obtained  some  advantages,  and  would  probably 
have  triumphed,  had  not  the  sudden  defection  of  Prussia  and 


262  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Saxony  left  him  to  bear  the  whole  weight  of  Maria  Theresa's 
forces. 

Prague,  garrisoned  by  28,000  French,  was  soon  invested  by 
60,000  enemies.  Belleisle  offered  to  give  up  the  Bohemian  capi- 
tal, on  condition  of  being  allowed  to  retire  without  molestation; 
but  the  besiegers  would  listen  to  nothing  short  of  a  surrender  at 
discretion.  After  having  made  a  protracted  defence,  he  began  to 
be  threatened  by  famine,  and,  in  this  extremity,  he  resolved  to 
break  through  the  Austrian  quarters.  At  the  head  of  15,000 
men,  with  twelve  days'  provisions,  he  sallied  from  Prague,  on  the 
night  of  the  16th  of  December,  1742,  and  directed  his  march 
upon  Egra,  which  city  was  at  the  distance  of  thirty-eight  leagues. 
He  took  his  measures  so  well  that,  though  he  was  closely  pur- 
sued by  the  enemy's  light  troops,  he  sustained  little  injury.  The 
sufferings  of  the  French  army  were,  nevertheless,  extreme.  Com- 
pelled to  bivouac  for  ten  nights  among  snow  and  ice,  and  often 
without  wood  for  fires,  the  mortality  among  the  troops  was  ap- 
palling. The  line  of  the  retreat  was  marked  throughout  by  whole 
platoons  frozen  to  death ;  seventeen  hundred  men  perished  in  the 
course  of  the  ten  days.  In  1746  and  1747,  Belleisle  was  charged 
with  the  defence  of  Dauphine;  these  were  his  last  campaigns. 
In  1748  he  was  created  a  duke  and  a  peer,  and  in  1757  he  be- 
came war  minister.  He  held  the  war  department  for  three  years, 
and  reformed  many  abuses.  In  1761  he  died  childless,  the  last 
of  his  family,  his  heir,  the  Count  of  Gisors,  having  fallen  at  the 
battle  of  Crevelt. 

His  brother,  the  chevalier,  had  gone  before  him,  the  victim  of 
an  intemperate  courage.  From  1734  to  1746,  the  chevalier  was 
often  actively  engaged,  both  in  fighting  and  negotiating,  and  dis- 
played equal  talents  in  each  occupation.  It  being  an  object  of 
importance  to  open  a  passage  into  the  heart  of  Piedmont,  the  two 
brothers  agreed  that  an  attack  should  be  made  on  the  formidable 
intrenched  post  of  the  Piedmontese,  at  the  Col  de  1'Assiette. 
The  chevalier  was  animated  by  the  prospect  of  gaining  the  rank 
of  marshal,  in  case  of  success.  The  position  of  the  enemy  was 
all  but  inaccessible,  and  was  fortified  with  more  than  usual  care, 
well  provided  with  artillery,  and  held  by  a  large  force.  Belleisle 
led  his  men  to  the  attack,  but  found  it  impossible  even  to  approach 
his  antagonists,  who  scattered  death  among  his  ranks,  with  almost 
perfect  impunity  to  themselves.  Instead  of  retiring  from  a  hope- 
less contest,  he  madly  persisted  in  his  efforts,  till  the  slaughter 
became  horrible.  He  at  last  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  body 
of  officers,  and  made  a  desperate  but  fruitless  assault,  in  which 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

he  fell,  along  with  most  of  those  who  surrounded  him.  Nearly 
four  thousand  of  the  assailants  were  slain,  and  half  as  many 
wounded,  while  the  loss  of  the  Piedmontese  fell  far  short  of  a 
hundred  men. 

We  have,  in  the  former  part  of  this  chapter,  seen  one  literary 
female  an  inmate  of  the  Bastile ;  we  must  now  contemplate  in  the 
same  situation  another,  of  equal  talents,  but  with  a  more  sullied 
character.  The  second  of  these  females  was  Madame  de  Tencin, 
sister  of  the  cardinal  of  that  name.  Though,  like  most  French- 
women of  that  period,  it  is  probable  that  Madame  de  Staal  did  not 
preserve  an  inviolate  chastity,  she  certainly  paid  more  respect  to 
appearances  than  was  paid  by  Madame  de  Tencin,  and  was  less 
stimulated  by  mere  animal  passion.  "  I  shall  paint  only  my  bust," 
Madame  de  Staal  is  said  to  have  replied,  when  she  was  asked 
how,  in  her  Memoirs,  she  would  contrive  to  speak  of  her  love 
affairs;  with  respect  to  Madame  de  Tencin,  it  maybe  doubted 
whether,  at  least  while  she  was  moving  in  the  circle  of  the  court, 
she  would  have  hesitated  to  delineate  a  whole-length  likeness  of 
herself. 

Tencin  was  a  name  derived  from  a  small  estate;  the  family 
name  was  Guerin.  The  lady  in  question  was  born  in  1681,  and 
her  father  was  president  of  the  Parliament  of  Grenoble.  She 
was  placed  in  the  convent  of  Montfleury,  near  Grenoble,  where 
she  resided  for  five  years.  If  credit  may  be  given  to  the  state- 
ments of  St.  Simon  and  others,  her  conduct  while  she  wore  the 
veil  was  anything  but  pious  and  decorous.  The  consequence  of 
one  of  her  amours  is  said  to  have  rendered  it  indispensable  for 
her  to  leave  the  convent,  of  which  she  was  already  tired.  Her 
great  object  was  to  shine  in  Paris,  and  this  she  accomplished. 
Through  the  interest  of  Fontenelle,  who  took  a  great  interest  in 
her,  she  obtained  a  dispensation  from  the  Pope,  and  she  then  gave 
full  swing  to  her  pleasures.  She  became  the  mistress  of  the  ultra 
profligate  Dubois;  and  the  scandalous  chronicles  of  the  time 
charge  her  with  having  joined  in  the  orgies  of  the  regent  and  his 
companions,  and  prostituted  her  talents  by  the  composition  of  ob- 
scene works.  With  Law,  the  Mississippi  projector,  she  was 
intimate,  and  she  and  her  brother  appear  to  have  profited  largely 
by  speculations  during  that  period  of  national  madness.  It  is  one 
pleasing  feature  in  her  character,  that  she  was  more  anxious  to 
establish  her  brother  than  herself. 

The  celebrated  d'Alembert  was  the  fruit  of  one  of  her  amours; 
the  father  was  the  Chevalier  Destouches.  The  infant  was,  in  the 
first  instance,  deserted  by  its  parents ;  it  was  left  on  the  steps  of 


264  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


the  church  of  St.  John  de  la  Ronde,  where  it  was  found  in  such  a 
state  of  weakness,  that  instead  of  sending  it  to  the  Foundling 
Hospital,  the  commissary  of  police  humanely  gave  it  to  the  wife 
of  a  poor  glazier  to  be  nursed.  Such  a  want  of  maternal  feeling, 
had  it  not  been  in  some  measure  atoned  for,  would  have  justified 
a  sarcasm  of  the  Abbe  Trublet,  who,  on  some  one  praising  to  him 
the  mild  disposition  of  Madame  de  Tencin,  replied,  "Oh,  yes!  if 
she  had  an  interest  in  poisoning  you,  she  would  choose  the  mildest 
poison  for  the  purpose."  The  parents  are,  however,  said  to  have 
relented  in  the  course  of  a  few  days ;  the  father  settled  on  him  a 
pension  of  1200  livres. 

It  was  the  fatal  result  of  another  of  her  amours  that  gave  her 
a  place  in  the  Bastile.  In  1726,  La  Fresnaye,  one  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Great  Council,  shot  himself  through  the  head  at  her 
house.  A  paper  in  his  handwriting  was  found,  in  which  he  de- 
clared that  if  ever  he  died  a  violent  death,  she  would  be  the  cause 
of  it.  From  this  paper,  which  certainly  bears  on  the  face  of  it 
a  very  different  meaning,  it  was  hastily  and  harshly  concluded, 
that  she  had  a  hand  in  his  murder.  She  was  consequently  com- 
mitted to  the  Conciergerie,  whence  she  was  removed  to  the  Bas- 
tile ;  but  she  was  not  long  a  prisoner. 

In  her  later  years,  the  conduct  of  Madame  de  Tencin  underwent 
a  complete  reformation ;  the  catrastrophe  of  La  Presnaye  perhaps 
contributed  to  the  change.  She  kept  up  a  correspondence  with 
Cardinal  Lambertini,  which  was  not  discontinued  when  he  became 
Pope  Benedict  XIV.,  and  her  house  was  the  resort  of  all  the  wit 
and  talent  of  Paris,  with  Fontenelle  and  Montesquieu  at  their  head. 
Her  assemblage  of  literary  men  she  used  jocosely  to  call  her  men- 
agerie, and  her  animals,  and  it  was  her  custom,  on  New-year's-day, 
to  present  each  individual  with  two  ells  of  velvet,  for  a  pair  of 
breeches.  It  is  not  easy  to  suppress  a  smile  at  the  ludicrous  idea 
of  such  a  present.  Madame  de  Tencin  died  in  1749.  Her  three 
romances,  the  Count  de  Comminge,  the  Siege  of  Calais,  and  the 
Misfortunes  of  Love,  still  deservedly  maintain  a  high  rank  among 
works  of  that  class.  It  has  been  said,  that  she  was  assisted  in 
writing  them  by  two  of  her  nephews ;  but  the  truth  of  this  is  at 
least  doubtful. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  265 


CHAPTER  X. 

Reign  of  Louis  XV.  continued.— The  Bull  Unigenitus.— A  Notary  Public.— G.  N. 
Nivelle. — G.  C.  Buffard. — Death  of  Deacon  Paris. — Rise,  progress,  and  acts,  of 
the  Convulsionaries. — Persecution  of  them,  and  artifices  employed  by  them 
to  foil  their  persecutors. — Lenglet  Dufresnoy. — La  Beaumelle. — F.  de  Marsy. 
— Marmontel. — The  Abbe  Morellet. — Mirabeau  the  elder. — The  Chevalier 
Resseguier. — Groubendal  and  Dulaurens. — Robbe  de  Beauveset. — Mahe  de  la 
Bourdonnais. — Count  Lally. — La  Chalotais. — Marin. — Durosoi. — Prevost  de 
Beaumont. — Barletti  St.  Paul. — Dumouriez. 

RELIGIOUS  intolerance  on  the  one  hand,  and  disgusting  fanati- 
cism on  the  other,  contributed  largely  to  swell  the  number  of  cap- 
tives in  the  Bastile,  and  in  other  places  of  confinement.  For  many 
years  after  Pope  Clement  XL,  at  the  instigation  of  the  bigoted  Le 
Tellier  and  Louis  XIV.,  had  thrown  among  the  clergy  of  the 
Gallican  church  that  ecclesiastical  fire-brand  the  bull  Unigenitus, 
it  continued  to  spread  the  flames  of  fierce  contention,  hatred,  and 
persecution.  The  first  individual  for  whom  the  bull  found  an 
abode  in  a  prison,  was,  I  believe,  a  notary  public.  While  the 
regency  was  held  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  the  Bishops  of  Mire- 
poix,  Senez,  Montpellier,  and  Boulogne,  had  the  boldness  to  sign 
an  act,  protesting  against  the  bull,  and  appealing  from  the  pope 
to  a  future  council ;  and,  accompanied  by  a  notary,  they  solemnly- 
presented  this  act  to  the  assembled  Sorbonne.  As  to  have  impri- 
soned the  four  bishops  would  scarcely  have  been  politic,  they  were 
only  ordered  to  retire  to  their  dioceses;  the  notary,  of  whom  a 
scape-goat  could  more  conveniently  be  made,  was  sent  to  the  Bas- 
tile. 

Backed  by  power,  the  supporters  of  the  bull  were  finally  tri- 
umphant, and  they  did  not  fail  to  make  the  vanquished  party 
experience  the  consequence  of  being  defeated  by  men  who  did  not 
consider  forbearance  as  a  virtue.  It  would  be  useless  to  dwell 
"£011  the  many  appellants  who  were  chastised  for  having  ventured 
to  doubt  the  pontifical  infallibility,  and  insist  on  referring  the 
question  in  dispute  to  a  future  council;  I  witl,  therefore,  only 
make  mention  of  two  individuals. 

Among  those  who  were  most  active  in  opposing  the  bull  Uni- 
genitus, and  who,  consequently,  were  proscribed  by  its  champions, 
was  Gabriel  Nicholas  Nivelle ;  he  was  indefatigable  in  drawing- 
up  memorials  and  tracts,  and  soliciting  appeals  against  it,  He 


266  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

more  than  once  contrived  to  elude  his  pursuers ;  but,  in  1730,  he 
was  taken  and  committed  to  the  Bastile,  where  he  remained  for 
four  months.  His  zeal  was,  however,  rather  excited  than  cooled 
by  this  imprisonment;  and, till  his  decease  in  1761,  when  he  was 
in  his  seventy-fourth  year,  he  continued  to  be  a  determined  oppo- 
nent of  the  bull.  Nivelle  edited  several  voluminous  works  relative 
to  the  contest  in  which  his  party  was  engaged  ;  the  principal  of 
which,  in  four  folio  volumes,  bears  the  title  of  The  Constitution 
Unigenitus  denounced  to  the  Universal  Church,  or  a  General  Col- 
lection of  the  Acts  of  Appeal. 

Equally  hostile  to  the  bull,  and  equally  persecuted  by  its  victori- 
ous friends,  was  Gabriel  Charles  Buffard,  a  native  of  Bayeux,  who 
was  born  in  1683.  He  was  rector  of  the  University  of  Caen,  and 
canon  of  Bayeux;  but  was  expelled  from  his  offices,  and  banished 
out  of  the  diocese,  in  1722.  Buffard  settled  at  Paris,  where  he 
was  not  long  allowed  to  remain  in  quiet.  He  was  conveyed  to 
the  Bastile,  and,  after  having  been  there  for  some  time,  he  was 
called  to  Auxerre.  From  Auxerre  he  was  speedily  dragged  to 
suffer  another  imprisonment  in  the  Bastile.  Fortunately,  he  found 
a  protector  in  Cardinal  des  Gesvres,  through  whose  intercession 
he  was  set  at  liberty.  Buffard  thenceforth  lived  in  retirement,  and 
gained  a  subsistence  by  giving  opinions  as  a  chamber  counsel,  and 
by  assisting  young  scholars  in  the  study  of  the  canon  law.  He 
died  in  1763. 

It  was  an  opinion  of  Bishop  Butler,  the  celebrated  author  of 
The  Analogy  of  Religion,  that  *'  whole  communities  and  public 
bodies  might  be  seized  with  fits  of  insanity,  as  well  as  individuals;" 
and,  indeed,  that  "  nothing  but  this  principle,  that  they  are  liable 
to  insanity,  equally  at  least  with  private  persons,  can  account  for 
the  major  part  of  those  transactions  which  we  read  of  in  history." 
Singular  as,  at  first  sight,  this  opinion  may  appear  to  be,  there  are 
many  circumstances  which  ought  to  induce  us  to  pause,  before  we 
reject  it  as  erroneous.  The  strange  scenes,  for  instance,  which  took 
place  among  the  Jansenists, — scenes  arising  out  of  the  death  of 
the  deacon  Paris, — may  almost  authorize  a  belief  that  large  bodies 
of  individuals  can  be  simultaneously  smitten  with  monomania,  or 
at  least  can  communicate  it  to  each  other  with  wonderful  rapidity. 

Francis  Paris,  a  strenuous  opponent  of  the  bull  Unigenitus,  was 
the  son  of  a  French  counselor.  Pious,  humble,  and  benevolent, 
Paris  relinquished  to  his  brother  all  claim  to  the  paternal  succes- 
sion, renounced  the  world,  lived  by  the  labour  of  his  own  hands, 
and  spent  his  leisure  moments  in  prayer,  and  in  succouring,  con- 
soling, and  instructing  the  poor.  His  modest  estimate  of  his  own 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  267 

abilities  deterred  him  from  taking  holy  orders.  He  died  on  the 
1st  of  May,  1727,  and  was  buried  in  the  churchyard  of  St.  Me- 
dard.  Many  of  those  to  whom  he  had  been  a  comforter  and  guide, 
looked  upon  him  as  a  beatified  being,  and  came  to  pray  at  his 
tomb.  Among  the  number  were  many  females.  Rumours  soon 
began  to  be  spread,  that  miracles  were  worked  by  the  influence 
of  the  sainted  defunct ;  sight  was  said  to  be  restored,  and  contracted 
limbs  extended  to  their  full  longitude.  Multitudes  now  flocked  to 
the  sacred  ground.  Then  ensued,  especially  among  the  women, 
contortions  and  convulsive  movements,  attended  by  cries,  shrieks, 
and  groans,  all  of  which  were  regarded  as  manifestations  of  divine 
power.  All  convulsive  movements  are  catching,  and  consequently, 
the  number  of  persons  who  displayed  them  at  St.  Medard,  in- 
creased daily  to  an  enormous  extent.  The  jargon  which  was 
uttered  by  the  convulsionaries,  during  their  paroxysms,  was  next 
supposed  to  be  the  language  of  prophecy;  and  a  whole  volume  of 
it  was  actually  published,  under  the  title  of  "  A  Collection  of  In- 
teresting Predictions."  Before,  however,  we  laugh  at  our  Gallic 
neighbours  for  such  folly,  it  may  be  well  to  remember  some  things 
which  have  happened  in  England,  within  the  last  quarter  of  a 
century. 

After  these  practices  had  gone  on,  with  hourly  increasing  vigour, 
for  some  years,  the  government  closed  the  churchyard  of  St.  Me- 
dard, which  was  become  the  theatre  of  exhibitions  calculated  to 
mislead  the  weak-minded,  and  disgust  men  of  sound  intellect. 
But  the  sect  of  the  Convulsionaries  (for  it  had  by  this  time  grown 
into  a  strong  and  regularly  organized  sect),  was  not  discouraged 
by  this  measure.  Earth  from  the  churchyard  where  the  deacon 
Paris  was  interred,  and  water  from  the  spring  which  had  supplied 
him  with  drink,  became  the  symbols  of  this  buried  idol,  and  the 
means  of  working  miracles.  Meetings  were  held  in  private 
houses,  and  there  fanaticism,  of  the  darkest,  wildest  kind,  gave 
full  scope  to  all  its  gloomy  inspirations.'  A  regular  system  of 
torture  was  practised  by  the  deluded  votaries ;  women  being  the 
principal  sufferers.  To  be  beaten  with  logs  on  the  tenderest  por- 
tions of  the  human  frame;  to  bend  the  body  into  a  semicircular 
form,  and  allow  a  weight  of  fifty  pounds  to  be  dropped  from  the 
ceiling  on  to  the  abdomen;  to  lie  with  a  plank  on  the  same  part, 
while  several  men  stood  on  it;  to  be  tied  up  with  the  head  down- 
wards, and  to  have  the  breasts  and  nipples  torn  with  pincers,  were 
among  the  inflictions  to  which  females  submitted,  and  apparently 
with  delight.  The  blows  were  inflicted  by  vigorous  young  men, 
who  were  called  Secouristes.  The  highly  sublimed  madness  of 


268  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


some  pushed  them  to  still  more  dreadful  extremities ;  it  prompted 
them  to  be  tied  on  spits,  and  exposed  to  the  flames,  or  to  be  nailed 
by  the  hands  and  feet  to  a  cross.  The  performance  of  these  un- 
natural acts  was  denominated  "the  work." 

The  Convulsionaries  did  not  form  a  homogeneous  body;  as  was 
to  be  expected,  they  were  split  into  parties,  bearing  various  appel- 
lations, and  being,  in  some  instances,  hostile  to  each  other.  There 
were  the  Vaillantistes,  the  Augustinians,  the  Melangistes,  the 
Margoullistes,  the  Figuristes,  and  many  more.  The  Vaillantistes 
took  their  name  from  Peter  Vaillant,  a  priest,  who  taught  that  the 
prophet  Elijah  was  resuscitated,  and  that  he  would  appear  on 
earth,  to  convert  the  Jews  and  the  court  of  Rome.  His  disciple, 
Housset,  maintained  that  Vaillant  himself  was  the  prophet.  Dar- 
naud,  another  priest,  boldly  assumed  the  character  of  the  prophet 
Enoch.  The  Augustinians,  who  carried  their  fanaticism  to  such 
a  pitch  that  they  were  looked  upon  as  heretical  by  other  convul- 
sionary  sects,  were  the  followers  of  a  friar  of  the  name  of  Augus- 
tin.  Among  their  peculiar  follies,  was  that  of  making  nocturnal 
processions,  with  torches  in  their  hands,  and  halters  round  their 
necks,  to  Notre  Dame,  and  thence  to  the  place  de  Greve ;  these 
processions  were  a  sort  of  rehearsal  of  the  tragic  scene  in  which 
they  expected  they  should  ultimately  be  called  upon  to  perform. 
The  Melangistes  were  those  who  distinguished  two  causes  pro- 
ducing convulsions ;  one  which  gave  rise  to  useless  or  improper 
acts,  another  which  inspired  divine  and  supernatural  acts.  The 
tenets  of  the  Margoullistes  have  not  been  handed  down  to  us. 
The  Figuristes  were  so  called  from  their  representing,  in  their 
convulsive  paroxysms,  various  phases  of  the  passion  of  Christ,  and 
the  martyrdom  of  the  saints. 

The  fierce  enthusiasm  of  all  these  sectarians  has  never  been 
exceeded.  Like  American  Indians,  they  set  at  defiance  the 
utmost  severity  of  pain.  Even  slight  stimulus  would  rouse  them 
into  violent  action.  "  I  have  seen  them,"  says  Voltaire,  "  when 
they  were  talking  of  the  miracles  of  St.  Paris,  grow  heated  by 
degrees,  till  their  whole  frame  trembled,  their  faces  were  disfigured 
by  rage,  and  they  would  have  killed  whoever  dared  to  contradict 
them.  Yes,  I  have  seen  them  writhe  their  limbs,  and  foam,  and 
cry  out  *  There  must  be  blood!'"  Not  the  slightest  concession 
would  they  make  to  avoid  punishment.  A  pardon  was  offered  to 
several  of  them,  who  were  sentenced  to  the  pillory  ;  they  refused 
it,  for  they  could  not,  they  said,  repent  of  having  done  right.  No 
lapse  of  time  could  eradicate  this  feeling  from  their  minds.  In 
1775,  when  M.  de  Malesherbes  visited  the  Conciergerie,  he  found 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

there  a  male  and  a  female  convulsionary,  who  had  been  imprisoned 
for  forty-one  years.  Age  had  not  chilled  in  them  the  resentment 
which  was  excited  by  their  wrongs.  He  offered  them  liberty,  if 
they  would  only  ask  for  it;  but  they  firmly  replied,  that  they  had 
been  unjustly  detained,  and  that  it  was  the  business  of  justice  to 
atone  for  its  errors,  and  to  give  the  reparation  to  which  they  were 
entitled.  They  were  released. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  the  sect  of  the  Convulsionaries 
consisted  merely  of  poor  and  ignorant  people.  Such  was  not  the 
case.  Strange  as  the  fact  may  appear,  the  sect  included  great 
numbers  of  pious,  learned,  and  intellectual  men.  Very  many  rich 
individuals  also  belonged  to  it,  and  contributed  to  the  maintenance 
of  their  less  fortunate  brethren.  A  Count  Daverne  was  sent  to 
the  Bastile  "for  wasting  his  property  in  supporting  the  Convul- 
sionaries;" and  the  same  crime  brought  a  similar  penalty  on 
other  individuals.  That  there  were,  however,  numerous  impos- 
tors, who  pretended  to  espouse  the  doctrines  of  the  sect,  in  order 
to  further  their  own  purposes,  admits  of  no  doubt.  There  were 
men  who  gave  regular  lessons  in  the  art  of  bringing  on  convul- 
sions. 

A  hot  persecution  was  perseveringly  carried  on  against  this 
sect,  and  with  the  usual  result;  the  sect  throve  in  spite  of  it,  or 
rather,  perhaps,  in  consequence  of  it.  For  five-and-thirty  years 
it  mocked  all  attempts  to  exterminate  it,  and  it  did  not  begin  to 
decline  till  it  was  left  to  the  withering  influence  of  ridicule  and 
neglect.  It  is  believed  to  have  retained  a  few  votaries  even  to  a 
recent  period.  The  Bastile  and  the  other  Parisian  prisons  were 
yearly  crowded  with  Convulsionaries.  Of  those  who  were  con- 
fined in  the  Bastile,  one  of  the  earliest  was  Peter  Vaillant,  from 
whom  the  Vaillantistes  derived  their  name.  He  had  previously 
suffered  there  an  imprisonment  of  three  years,  for  his  opposition 
to  the  bull  Unigenitus.  In  1734,  he  was  again  sent  thither,  and, 
after  having  been  there  for  two-and-twenty  years,  he  was  trans- 
ferred to  Vincennes,  where  he  died.  Housset,  his  disciple ;  Dar- 
naud,  who  called  himself  the  prophet  Enoch ;  the  Abbe  Blondel, 
author  of  Lives  of  the  Saints;  the  Abbes  Deffart,  Pianchon,  and 
Deribat ;  Lequeux,  prior  of  St.  Yves,  the  learned  editor  of  Bos- 
suet's  works ;  and  Carre  de  Montgeron,  a  counselor  of  the  parlia- 
ment of  Paris;  were  of  the  number  of  those  who  were  sent  to  the 
Bastile.  Montgeron  was  born  in  the  French  capital,  in  1686,  and 
we  have  his  own  word  for  it  that,  till  he  was  suddenly  converted 
in  St.  Medard's  churchyard,  he  was  a  thoroughly  worthless  unbe- 
liever. By  a  natural  transition,  he  became  one  of  the  most  credu- 


270  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

lous  and  enthusiastic  of  dupes.  In  1737,  he  printed  a  quarto 
volume,  illustrated  with  twenty  plates,  "  to  demonstrate  the  truth 
of  the  miracles  operated  by  the  intercession  of  the  beatified  Paris." 
This  volume  he  presented  to  Louis  XV.  at  Versailles,  and  the 
next  day,  by  order  of  the  monarch,  he  was  conveyed  to  the  Bas- 
tile.  He  was  afterwards  an  inmate  of  various  prisons,  and  died 
at  last  in  the  citadel  of  Valence.  While  he  was  in  confinement, 
he  added  two  more  volumes  to  his  rhapsody. 

In  hunting  down  the  humbler  class  of  delinquents,  the  police 
found  abundant  employment,  and  they  performed  their  task  in  the 
most  oppressive  manner.  Renault,  the  lieutenant  of  police,  an 
irascible  and  unreasoning  man,  was  an  ardent  partisan  of  the 
Jesuits,  and,  of  course,  was  a  violent  enemy  of  the  proscribed  sect. 
His  myrmidons  spread  terror  in  all  directions.  They  are  charged 
with  having,  "  even  in  the  dead  of  night,  penetrated  into  the 
dwellings  of  individuals,  scaled  the  walls,  broken  open  the  doors, 
and  shown  no  respect  to  age  or  sex,  when  their  object  was  to  dis- 
cover, imprison,  consign  to  the  pillory,  banish,  and  ruin,  those 
who  favoured  the  Convulsionaries."  It  was  dangerous  to  be  sub- 
ject to  epileptic  or  other  fits ;  persons  who  were  attacked  by  them 
in  the  streets  having  been  pitilessly  hurried  off  to  gaol. 

The  vigilance  of  the  police  was  also  kept  on  the  stretch,  and  in 
a  majority  of  cases  was  eluded,  by  the  prints,  posting-bills,  pam- 
phlets, and  periodical  writings  of  the  Convulsionaries,  as  well  as 
by  their  secret  meetings.  Of  the  prints,  one  represented  the  tree 
of  religion,  in  the  branches  of  which  were  seated  Quesnel,  Paris, 
and  other  apostles  of  Jansenism,  while  two  Jesuits  were  striving 
to  root  it  up.  For  this,  a  rhymer  and  engraver,  Cointre  by  name, 
was  committed  to  the  Bastile.  In  another,  Archbishop  Vintimille 
was  seen  throwing  a  stone  at  the  sainted  deacon  Paris,  and  the 
lieutenant  of  police  was  holding  the  archiepiscopal  cross,  and  sti- 
mulating the  prelate.  This  print  procured  for  Mercier,  the  vender 
of  it,  a  place  in  the  Bastile.  In  a  third  of  these  caricatures  was 
depicted  the  pope  larded  with  a  dozen  Jesuits. 

In  placarding  the  walls,  and  distributing  hand-bills,  all  sorts 
of  stratagems  were  employed.  The  following  is  one  of  the  most 
ingenious  modes  which  was  adopted  by  the  bill-stickers.  A  woman, 
raggedly  dressed,  with  a  large  pannier  strapped  on  her  back,  leaned 
her  pannier  against  the  wall,  as  though  she  wished  to  rest  herself. 
In  the  pannier  was  a  child,  who,  as  soon  as  she  stopped,  opened 
the  cover,  and  fixed  a  bill  on  the  wall.  As  soon  as  his  task  was 
performed  he  closed  the  aperture,  and  liis  bearer  proceeded  with 
him  to  another  convenient  place.  The  bills  and  short  pamphlets, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  271 

which  were  made  public  in  this  and  other  ways,  were  innumera- 
ble. In  the  library  of  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  there  was  an  im- 
perfect collection  of  them,  which  formed  thirteen  quarto  volumes. 
Most  of  them  seem  to  have  been  printed  in  the  environs  of  the 
capital ;  they  were  often  brought  into  the  city  by  females,  and  in 
searching  for  them,  the  police  officers  were  guilty  of  the  grossest 
indecency. 

But  the  great  object  which  the  police  sought  to  obtain,  and  in 
which  it  was  utterly  foiled,  wras  the  suppression  of  a  periodical 
publication  which  bore  the  title  of  Nouvelles  Ecclesiastiques.  This 
obnoxious  work  was  vigorously  continued  for  more  than  twenty 
years,  without  the  government  being  able  to  lay  hands  on  the 
writers,  or  to  stop  the  printing  and  distributing  of  it.  Many  per- 
sons were,  indeed,  committed  to  the  Bastile  and  other  prisons,  on 
suspicion  of  being  its  editors  or  contributors,  but  no  positive  proof 
could  ever  be  procured.  The  police  were  wholly  at  fault ;  and 
the  authors  of  the  paper  appear  to  have  taken  a  provoking  pleasure 
in  showing  the  lieutenant  of  police  their  contempt  of  his  efforts. 
In  one  instance,  while  his  satellites  were  fruitlessly  searching  a 
house  which  was  suspected  of  being  a  printing-office,  a  bundle  of 
the  papers  wet  from  the  press,  was  thrown  into  his  carriage,  al- 
most before  his  face.  The  paper  was  sometimes  printed  in  the 
city,  and  sometimes  in  the  neighbourhood.  At  one  time  the  press 
was  secreted  even  under  the  dome  of  the  Luxembourg ;  at  another, 
it  was  hidden  among  piles  of  timber,  and  the  printers  were  dis- 
guised as  sawyers ;  on  other  occasions,  it  was  contained  in  a  boat 
on  the  Seine.  When  the  paper  was  printed  in  the  vicinity  of 
Paris,  various  artifices  were  resorted  to  for  smuggling  it  into  the 
town,  one  of  which  deserves  especial  notice.  Water-dogs  were 
trained  as  carriers;  they  were  closely  shorn,  the  papers  were 
wrapped  round  them,  a  large  rough  skin  was  then  sewn  carefully 
over  the  whole,  and  the  sagacious  animals  then  took  their  way, 
unsuspected,  to  their  several  destinations. 

But  enough  has  been  said  on  the  victims  of  religious  delusion ; 
and  we  must  now  turn  our  view  to  persons  of  a  different  class. 
The  fertile  author  of  little  short  of  thirty  works,  and  the  editor  of 
an  equal  number,  nearly  all  of  which  are  forgotten,  Lenglet  Dufres- 
noy,  who  was  born  at  Beauvais  in  1764,  was  perhaps  a  more 
frequent  visitor  to  the  Bastile  than  any  other  person.  It  is  said 
that  he  was  so  accustomed  to  lettres-de-cachet,  that  as  soon  as  he 
saw  M.  Tapin,  the  officer,  enter  his  apartment,  he  would  greet 
him  with,  "  Ah,  M.  Tapin,  good  day  to  you  ;"  and  then  say  to 
his  servant, "  Come,  be  quick;  make  up  my  little  bundle,  and  put 


272  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

in  my  linen  and  my  snuff;"  which  being  done,  he  would  add, 
"Now,  M.  Tapin,  I  am  at  your  service."  Between  1718  and 
1751,  he  was  at  least  five  times  in  the  Bastile.  He  was  also 
acquainted  with  Vincennes  and  other  gaols.  His  first  committal  to 
the  Parisian  state  prison  was  perhaps  the  one  which  was  most 
dishonourable  to  him ;  he  was  sent  there  to  act  the  part  of  a  spy, 
and  worm  out  the  secrets  of  the  persons  who  were  in  durance  for 
being  concerned  in  the  Cellamare  conspiracy.  It  is  asserted, that 
he  had  already  appeared  in  a  similar  degrading  character  at  Lille, 
in  1708,  where  he  was  paid  for  intelligence  by  the  allies  and  the 
French,  and  betrayed  both  parties.  Lenglet  was  of  a  quarrelsome 
and  caustic  disposition,  which  involved  him  in  personal  disputes, 
and  he  appears  to  have  paid  little  respect  to  truth ;  but  he  had  at 
least  one  estimable  quality,  an  unconquerable  love  of  independence, 
— no  offers,  however  flattering  or  lucrative,  could  prevail  on  him 
to  place  himself  under  the  galling  yoke  of  the  rich  and  the  great. 
His  death,  which  took  place  in  1755,  was  occasioned  by  his  fall- 
ing into  the  fire  while  he  was  asleep. 

The  Bastile  twice  received  Laurent  Angliviel  la  Beaumelle, 
who  was  born  in  1727,  at  Vallerangue,  in  Lower  Languedoc. 
His  first  imprisonment,  in  1753,  which  lasted  six  months,  was 
caused  by  his  Notes  on  the  Age  of  Louis  XIV. ;  for  his  second,  in 
the  following  year,  he  was  indebted  to  a  passage  in  his  Memoirs 
of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  which  charged  the  Austrian  court  with 
keeping  poisoners  in  its  pay.  His  release,  at  the  end  of  five 
months,  was  generously  obtained  by  the  intercession  of  that  court 
which  he  had  so  grossly  insulted.  La  Beaumelle  was  brought  up 
in  the  Catholic  religion,  but,  during  a  residence  of  some  years  in 
Geneva,  he  became  a  Protestant.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he 
was  appointed  professor  of  French  literature  at  Copenhagen,  and 
his  first  work,  "  Mes  Pensees,"  was  published  in  the  Danish 
capital.  Lured  by  the  patronage  which  Frederick  of  Prussia  held 
out  to  authors,  La  Beaumelle  removed  to  Berlin.  Voltaire,  who 
was  then  at  the  Prussian  court,  visited  him,  and  expressed  a  wish 
to  be  numbered  among  his  friends  ;  but  their  amicable  intercourse 
was  soon  changed  into  deadly  hostility.  There  was  a  short  para- 
graph in  Mes  Pensees,  which  wounded  the  vanity  of  Voltaire,  and 
La  Beaumelle  was  also  guilty  of  having  a  respect  for  Maupertuis, 
whom  Voltaire  detested,  and  missed  no  opportunity  of  ridiculing. 
The  rabid  hatred  with  which  Voltaire  ever  after  pursued  his  foe, 
and  the  virulent  and  even  low  abuse  which  he  lavished  on  him, 
can  excite  only  disgust.  The  malign  influence  of  Voltaire  having 
rendered  Berlin  a  disagreeable  abode,  La  Beaumelle  returned  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  273 


his  native  country.  After  having  resided  in  peace  at  Toulouse 
for  several  years,  he  obtained  a  place  in  the  King's  Library,  at 
Paris,  which,  however,  he  did  not  long  retain ;  his  death,  which 
happened  in  1779,  followed  close  upon  his  appointment.  La 
Beaumelle  had  certainly  no  mean  talents ;  and  it  is  much  to  be 
regretted,  that  they  were  so  often  thrown  away  upon  literary 
squabbles.  Of 'his  works,  the  best  are  Mes  Pensees;  a  Defence 
of  the  Spirit  of  Laws;  and  Letters  to  M.  de  Voltaire. 

The  literary  successor  of  La  Beaumelle  in  the  Bastile,  was 
Francis  de  Marsy,  a  native  of  Paris,  born  in  1714.  After  he  had 
finished  his  studies,  he  was  admitted  a  member  of  the  Society  of 
Jesuits.  His  first  productions  were  two  Latin  poems,  on  Tragedy 
and  Painting,  from  which,  particularly  the  latter,  he  derived  con- 
siderable reputation,  his  Latinity  being  good,  his  versification 
flowing  and  spirited,  and  his  imagery  poetical.  Encouraged  per- 
haps by  the  praise  which  he  received  for  these  works,  he  became 
an  author  by  profession,  and  wasted,  in  the  ungrateful  occupation 
of  writing  for  booksellers,  those  talents  which,  otherwise  employed, 
might  have  given  him  permanent  fame.  One  of  his  tasks,  an 
analysis  of  the  works  of  Bayle,  which  he  published  in  1755,  was 
condemned  by  the  parliament  of  Paris,  and  made  him,  for  some 
months,  an  inmate  of  the  Bastile.  He  died  in  1763.  Among- 
his  works  are  the  first  twelve  volumes  of  the  History  of  the  Chi- 
nese, Japanese,  &c. ;  and  an  edition  of  Rabelais  in  eight  volumes. 
The  former  is  a  hasty  compilation ;  the  latter  he  spoiled,  by  re- 
touching and  modernizing  the  style — it  is  probable,  however,  that 
the  clothing  of  Rabelais  in  a  modern  garb  was  a  sagacious  scheme 
of  the  publishers. 

To  hazard  censure  upon  an  individual  of  the  privileged  class, 
or  even  to  be  suspected  of  having  done  so,  was  an  infallible  pass- 
port to  the  Bastile.  That  versatile  and  elegant  writer  Marmontel 
was  one  of  those  who  were  taught  the  danger  of  a  courtier's  hos- 
tility. This  enemy  was  the  Duke  d'Aumont,  whom,  in  his 
Memoirs,  he  truly  describes  as  being  "the  most  stupid,  the  most 
vain,  and  the  most  choleric,  of  all  the  gentlemen  of  the  king's 
chamber." 

John  Francis  Marmontel,  the  son  of  parents  in  a  humble  station, 
was  born  in  1723,  at  the  town  of  Bort,  in  the  Limousin.  He  has 
drawn  a  delightful  picture  of  the  comfort  and  content  in  which 
his  family  lived.  "The  property  on  which  we  all  subsisted  was 
very  small.  Order,  domestic  arrangement,  labour,  a  little  trade, 
and  frugality,  kept  us  above  want.  Our  little  garden  produced 
nearly  as  many  vegetables  as  the  consumption  of  the  family 


274  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

required;  the  orchard  afforded  us  fruits;  and  our  quinces,  our 
apples  and  our  pears,  preserved  with  the  honey  of  our  bees,  were, 
in  winter,  most  exquisite  breakfasts  for  the  good  old  women  and 
children.  They  were  clothed  by  the  small  flock  of  sheep  that 
folded  at  St.  Thomas.  My  aunt  spun  the  wool,  and  the  hemp  of 
the  field  that  furnished  us  with  linen;  and  in  the  evenings,  when, 
by  the  light  of  a  lamp,  which  our  nut-trees  supplied  with  oil,  the 
young  people  of  the  neighbourhood  came  to  help  us  to  dress  our 
flax,  the  picture  was  exquisite.  The  harvest  of  the  little  farm 
secured  us  subsistence ;  the  wax  and  honey  of  the  bees,  to  which 
one  of  my  aunts  carefully  attended,  formed  a  revenue  that  cost 
but  little;  the  oil  pressed  from  our  green  walnuts  had  a  taste  and 
smell  that  we  preferred  to  the  flavour  and  perfume  of  that  of  the 
olive.  Our  buckwheat  cakes,  moistened,  smoking  hot,  with  the 
good  butter  of  Mont  d'Or,  were  a  delicious  treat  to  us.  I  know 
not  what  dish  would  have  appeared  to  us  better  than  our  turnips 
and  chestnuts ;  and  on  a  winter  evening,  while  these  fine  turnips 
were  roasting  round  the  fire,  and  we  heard  the  water  boiling  in 
the  vase  where  our  chestnuts  were  cooling,  so  relishing  and  sweet, 
how  did  our  hearts  palpitate  with  joy  !  I  well  remember,  too,  the 
perfume  that  a  fine  quince  used  to  exhale  when  roasting  under  the 
ashes,  and  the  pleasure  our  grandmother  used  to  have  in  dividing 
it  amongst  us.  The  most  moderate  of  women  made  us  all  glut- 
tons. Thus,  in  a  family  where  nothing  was  lost,  trivial  objects 
united  made  plenty,  and  left  but  little  to  expend,  in  order  to  satisfy 
all  our  wants.  In  the  neighbouring  forest  there  was  an  abun- 
dance of  dead  wood  of  trifling  value — there  my  father  was  per- 
mitted to  make  his  annual  provision.  The  excellent  butter  of  the 
mountain,  and  the  most  delicate  cheese,  were  common,  and  cost 
but  little ;  wine  was  not  dear,  and  my  father  himself  drank  of  it 
soberly." 

Marmontel  was  designed  by  his  father  to  be  brought  up  to  trade, 
but  his  desire  of  learning  was  unconquerable,  and  was  at  last 
allowed  to  be  gratified.  His  early  education  he  received  from 
the  Jesuits,  at  the  humble  college  of  Mauriac,  and  he  completed 
it  at  Clermont  and  Toulouse.  At  one  time  he  fancied  that  he 
had  a  vocation  for  the  ecclesiastical  state,  and  he  would  have 
become  one  of  the  fraternity  of  Jesuits,  had  he  not  been  deterred 
by  the  pathetic  entreaties  and  remonstrances  of  his  mother.  It 
was  at  Toulouse  that  he  made  his  first  literary  essay,  in  a  com- 
petition for  one  of  the  prizes  bestowed  by  the  academy  for  Floral 
Games.  A  correspondence,  into  which  he  entered  with  Voltaire, 
induced  the  poet  to  advise  him  to  take  up  his  abode  in  Paris,  and 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  275 

on  this  advice  he  acted  in  1745.  For  a  considerable  time  after 
his  settling  in  the  capital  he  had  to  contend  against  poverty.  The 
complete  success  which  attended  his  tragedy  of  Dionysius,  the 
Tyrant,  lifted  him  at  once  into  fortune  and  fame.  "In  one  day," 
says  he,  "almost  in  one  instant,  I  found  myself  rich  and  celebrated. 
I  made  a  worthy  use  of  my  riches,  but  it  was  not  so  with  my 
celebrity.  My  fame  became  the  origin  of  my  dissipation,  and 
the  source  of  my  errors.  Till  then,  my  life  had  been  obscure  and 
retired."  It  is  honourable  to  him  that  all  his  family  benefited  by 
his  improved  circumstances ;  and  in  palliation  of  his  errors,  we 
must  consider  how  difficult  it  was  for  a  young  and  flattered  poet 
to  escape  the  contagious  effect  of  a  corrupted  capital.  He  finally 
renounced  his  licentious  habits,  and  became  an  affectionate  and 
happy  husband  and  father. 

Dionysius  was  followed  by  Aristomenes,  Cleopatra,  and  other 
tragedies,  of  which  only  Aristomenes  was  eminently  successful. 
His  wide-spread  reputation  at  length  gained  for  him  the  patron- 
age of  Madame  de  Pompadour,  through  whom  he  obtained  the 
place  of  Secretary  of  the  Royal  Buildings,  and  a  pension  on  the 
French  Mercury.  It  was  for  the  Mercury  that  he  began  those 
tales,  which  have  been  translated  into  English  under  the  erroneous 
appellation  of  Moral  Tales.  On  the  death  of  Boissy,  in  1758, 
Marmontel,  by  the  favour  of  Pompadour,  received  the  patent  of 
the  Mercury ;  and,  under  his  management,  the  work  rose  into 
high  repute.  He,  however,  enjoyed  this  lucrative  employment 
for  only  two  years.  Cury,  a  wit,  who  had  been  deeply  injured 
by  the.  stupid  and  spiteful  Duke  d'Aumont,  composed  a  satire  on 
his  titled  enemy.  He  repeated  the  verses  to  Marmontel,  and  the 
latter,  who  had  an  excellent  memory,  repeated  them  to  a  company 
at  Madame  Geoffrin's.  This  circumstance  was  instantly  reported 
to  the  Duke  d'Aumont,  who  lost  not  a  moment  in  procuring  a  lettre- 
de-cachet,  by  virtue  of  which  Marmontel  was  conveyed  to  the 
Bastile,  charged  with  being  the  author  of  the  satire.  His  confine- 
ment lasted  only  eleven  days ;  but  as  he  generously  refused  to 
betray  the  writer's  name,  the  patent  of  the  Mercury  was  taken 
from  him,  and  nothing  was  left  to  him  except  a  pension  payable 
out  of  the  profits  of  the  work. 

In  1763  Marmontel  became  a  member  of  the  French  Academy, 
and  twenty  years  later  he  was  appointed  its  perpetual  secretary. 
After  he  was  deprived  of  the  Mercury,  he  pursued  his  literary 
labours,  for  many  years,  with  equal  vigour  and  credit.  Among 
the  works  which  he  produced  during  that  period  are  Belisarius, 
the  Incas,  a  translation  of  the  Pharsalia,  a  new  series  of  tales, 


276  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

various  comic  operas,  miscellaneous  pieces,  a  History  of  the  Re- 
gency of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  Elements  of  Literature,  and  Me- 
moirs of  his  own  Life.  During  the  fierce  struggles  between  the 
republican  parties,  after  the  downfall  of  the  throne,  Marmontel 
lived  in  retirement,  and  in  a  state  of  penury  which  bordered  upon 
poverty.  He  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Council  of  Elders, 
in  1797,  but  the  revolution  of  the  18th  Fructidor  deprived  him  of 
his  seat,  and  he  withdrew  to  his  cottage  in  Normandy,  happy  in 
not  being  exiled  to  another  hemisphere,  as  was  the  case  with 
many  of  his  colleagues.  Marmontel  died  of  apoplexy,  on  the  last 
day  of  1799. 

Morellet,  the  friend,  and  by  marriage  the  relative,  of  Marmontel, 
was,  like  that  writer,  one  who  suffered  from  the  vengeance  of  the 
great.  It  must  be  owned,  however,  that  there  was  less  injustice 
in  his  punishment  than  in  that  of  his  friend,  as  he  was  really  the 
author  of  the  satire  for  which  he  was  confined,  and  it  was  pub- 
lished under  circumstances  which  made  even  Voltaire  doubt  whe- 
ther the  conduct  of  the  writer  was  perfectly  justifiable.  Andrew 
Morellet,  to  whom  some  of  his  acquaintance  gave  the  punning 
appellation  of  Mord-les,  or  Bite-'em,  was  born  at  Lyons,  in  1727. 
He  received  the  early  part  of  his  education  at  the  Jesuits'  College 
in  that  city,  and  he  completed  his  studies  at  Paris,  in  the  seminary 
of  Trente-Trois,  and  the  Sorbonne.  He  appears,  however,  to 
have  paid  at  least  as  much  attention  to  the  works  of  modern 
philosophers  as  to  those  of  the  theologians.  At  Paris  he  became 
intimate  with  D'Alembert,  Diderot,  and  other  contributors  to  the 
Encyclopaedia.  Returning  to  Paris,  after  a  tour  which  he  made 
with  a  pupil,  he  was  gladly  admitted  into  the  most  talented  society 
in  the  capital.  Palissot,  in  his  comedy  of  the  Philosophers,  hav- 
ing ridiculed  the  philosophical  party,  Morellet  resented  the  insult 
by  a  satirical  production,  called  The  Vision.  In  this  work  there 
were  some  severe  lines  on  the  Princess  of  Robecq,  an  enemy  of 
the  encyclopedists,  who  was  then  lying  on  her  death-bed.  For 
these  lines  Morellet  suffered  an  imprisonment  of  several  months 
in  the  Bastile.  Morellet  was  admitted  into  the  French  Academy 
in  1784,  and  he  contributed  much  to  the  Dictionary  of  that  body. 
In  1803  he  became  a  member  of  the  Institute,  and  in  1807  at- 
tained a  seat  in  the  legislature.  His  life  was  protracted  to  the 
age  of  ninety-two,  and,  for  nearly  the  whole  of  that  time  his  pen 
was  actively  employed  on  subjects  of  political  economy  and  gene- 
ral literature,  and  in  translations,  principally  from  the  English 
language.  A  selection  from  his  writings  was  made  by  himself, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  277 

in  four  volumes,  with  the  title  of  Literary  and  Philosophical  Mis- 
cellanies of  the  18th  century.  He  died  in  1819. 

By  Marmontel,  who  married  his  friend's  niece,  he  is  thus  cha- 
racterized: "The  Abbe  Morellet,  with  more  order  and  clearness, 
in  a  very  rich  magazine  of  every  kind  of  knowledge,  possessed  in 
conversation  a  source  of  sound,  pure,  profound  ideas,  that,  with- 
out ever  being  exhausted,  never  overflowed.  He  showed  himself 
at  our  dinners  with  an  openness  of  soul,  a  just  and  firm  mind,  and 
with  as  much  rectitude  in  his  heart  as  in  his  understanding.  One 
of  his  talents,  and  the  most  distinguishing,  was  a  turn  of  pleasantry 
delicately  ironical,  of  which  Swift  alone  had  found  the  secret. 
With  this  facility  of  being  severe,  if  he  had  been  inclined,  no  man 
was  ever  less  so ;  and,  if  he  ever  permitted  himself  to  indulge  in 
personal  raillery,  it  was  but  a  rod  in  his  hand  to  chastise  insolence 
or  punish  malignity." 

A  less  amiable  captive  than  Marmontel  and  Morellet  next  claims 
our  attention.  Though  he  was  by  no  means  destitute  of  talent  or 
information,  Victor  Riquetti,  Marquis  of  Mirabeau,  owes  the  re- 
demption of  his  name  from  oblivion  less  to  his  numerous  literary 
productions  than  to  his  being  the  father  of  the  celebrated  Mira- 
beau. The  marquis,  who  was  descended  from  a  Florentine  family, 
was  born  at  Perthes  in  1715.  He  became  a  disciple  of  Gluesnay, 
and  published  many  works,  to  disseminate  the  doctrines  of  the 
political  economists.  His  compositions  are  disfigured  by  a  detest- 
able style,  great  affectation,  and  a  want  of  method.  Of  his  labours, 
which  amount  to  more  than  twenty  volumes,  it  will  suffice  to 
mention  L'Ami  des  Hommes  and  the  Theorie  de  1'Impot.  With 
reference  to  the  former,  Voltaire  satirically  speaks  of  Mirabeau  as 
"  the  friend  of  man,  who  talks,  who  talks,  who  talks,  who  decides, 
who  dictates,  who  is  so  fond  of  the  feudal  government,  who  com- 
mits so  many  blunders,  and  who  gets  so  often  into  the  wrong 
box — the  pretended  friend  of  the  human  race."  He  bestows 
equal  contempt  on  the  second  work — "I  have  read  the  Theory  of 
Taxation,"  says  he,  "and  it  seems  to  me  no  less  absurd  than  ridi- 
culously written.  I  do  not  like  those  friends  of  man,  who  are  for- 
ever telling  the  enemies  of  the  state  « we  are  ruined ; — come ; — 
you  will  have  an  easy  task.' "  The  government  seems  to  have 
been  of  the  same  opinion  as  Voltaire,  for  the  Theory  of  Taxation 
procured  for  its  author  a  lodging  in  the  Bastile.  Mirabeau,  how- 
ever, continued  to  write  and  to  publish  till  nearly  his  last  mo- 
ments; he  died  in  1789.  This  pretended  friend  of  the  human 
race,  as  Voltaire  with  justice  calls  him,  deserved  abhorrence  in  all 
the  relations  of  social  life.  He  was  an  oppressive  master,  and  a 


278  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

tyrannical  and  brutal  husband  and  father.  He  was  perpetually 
soliciting  for  lettres-de-cachet  to  plunge  some  branch  or  other  of 
his  family  into  a  dungeon.  Of  those  letters  he  is  said  to  have 
obtained  fifty-four,  many  of  which  were  enforced  against  his 
highly-gifted  though  erring  son,  the  Count  de  Mirabeau,  whom 
he  hated,  and  whom,  by  his  persevering  cruelty,  he  contributed 
to  drive  into  desperate  courses. 

Among  those  who  felt  the  vengeance  of  the  vindictive  Pompa- 
dour was  the  Chevalier  Resseguier,  a  native  of  Toulouse,  who 
was  much  admired  in  the  Parisian  circles  for  his  gayety  and  wit. 
An  epigram  which  he  aimed  at  the  royal  mistress,  speedily  made 
him  an  inmate  of  the  Bastile.  There,  like  many  other  unfortu- 
nate victims  of  the  marchioness,  he  might  perhaps  have  spent  the 
rest  of  his  days,  had  not  his  brother,  a  member  of  the  parliament 
of  Toulouse,  hastened  up  to  the  capital  and  succeeded  in  mollify- 
ing Pompadour.  In  their  way  home  from  the  Bastile,  the  grave 
magistrate  began  to  give  his  brother  some  prudent  advice.  Little 
disposed  to  listen  to  it,  the  chevalier  thrust  his  head  out  of  the 
coach  window,  and,  in  the  words  of  Philoxenus  of  Syracuse,  ex- 
claimed, "Take  me  back  to  the  quarries !"  The  brother  still  per- 
sisting to  administer  caution  and  reproof,  the  chevalier  lost  all 
patience,  censured  him  bitterly  for  having  stooped  to  ask  a  favour 
from  the  marchioness,  and  then  leaped  from  the  carriage.  Resse- 
guier of  course  continued  to  scatter  his  sarcasms  on  all  sides.  For 
one  of  them,  directed  against  the  notorious  President  Maupeou, 
who  was  afterwards  chancelor,  he  ran  considerable  risk  of  paying 
a  second  visit  to  the  Bastile.  He  was  dining,  on  a  fast-day,  at 
the  house  of  M.  de  Sartine,  and  some  of  the  guests  were  admiring 
the  size  of  the  fish.  "Yes,"  said  Marin,  (whose  name  the  reader 
will  meet  with  again,)  "they  are  very  fine  fish;  but  I  dined  yes- 
terday with  the  president,  and  he  had  still  larger."  "Ah!"  re- 
plied Resseguier,  "I  do  not  wonder  in  the  least  at  that ;  it  is  the 
place  for  everything  monstrous."  Louis  XV.  was  informed  of 
this  pungent  attack  on  the  instrument  of  his  despotism,  and  was 
greatly  irritated  by  it. 

The  next  literary  prisoner  was  the  involuntary  proxy  of  an 
offender,  who  took  care  to  get  beyond  the  reach  of  the  police.  In 
176l,Grouber  de  Grouberdal,  a  German  by  birth,  and  barrister 
by  profession,  author  of  Irus,  ou  le  Savetier  du  Coin,  and  a  poem 
with  the  title  of  Le  Sexe  Triomphant,  was  sent  to  the  Bastile,  on 
suspicion  of  having  written  a  satire  called  the  Jesuitics,  to  which 
he  appears  to  have  contributed  only  some  verses.  Grouber,  how- 
ever, escaped  with  no  more  than  a  month's  imprisonment.  A 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  279 

friend  of  Grouber's  was  the  real  author.  Henry  Joseph  Dulaurens 
was  born  at  Douay,  and  very  early  displayed  abilities  of  a  supe- 
rior order.  He  was  less  amiable  than  talented ;  for  he  is  said  to 
have  been  suspicious,  sarcastic,  hasty,  restless,  and  turbulent:  that 
he  was  licentious,  is  proved  by  his  works.  Dulaurens  was  de- 
stined for  the  church,  but  abandoned  the  clerical  profession.  His 
satire,  the  Jesuitics,  which  was  modeled  on  the  celebrated  Philippics 
of  La  Grange  Chancel,  was  aimed  at  the  Jesuits,  to  whom  he  had 
long  been  bitterly  hostile.  Fearing  that  it  would  bring  him  into 
peril,  he  set  off  for  Holland,  on  the  morning  after  it  was  published, 
without  warning  his  friend  Grouber  that  danger  was  to  be  appre- 
hended. In  Holland  he  became  a  writer  for  the  booksellers ;  but, 
though  his  pen  was  extremely  fertile,  and  his  productions,  which 
were  generally  marked  by  originality  and  spirit,  obtained  an  ex- 
tensive sale,  he  was  scarcely  able  to  avoid  sinking  into  poverty: 
the  booksellers  throve  on  those  fruits  of  his  talent,  by  which  he 
himself  was  barely  kept  alive.  By  his  flight  from  Paris,  Du- 
laurens had  eluded  a  residence  in  the  Bastile,  but  it  ultimately 
brought  on  him  a  more  protracted  confinement  than  he  would 
have  endured  had  he  remained  in  France.  In  the  hope  of  bet- 
tering his  condition,  he  quitted  Amsterdam,  and  went  to  Liege, 
whence  he  removed  to  Frankfort.  While  he  was  living  in  the 
latter  city,  he  was  prosecuted  by  the  ecclesiastical  chamber  of 
Mentz,  as  an  anti-religious  writer,  and  was  condemned  to  per- 
petual imprisonment.  He  died  in  1797,  in  a  convent  near  Mentz, 
after  having  been  a  prisoner  during  thirty  years.  Of  his  works, 
the  most  remarkable  are,  Le  Compere  Mathieu,  L'Evangile  de  la 
Raison,  Irma,  and  L'Aretin  Moderne,  in  prose;  and  Le  Balai,  and 
La  Chandelle  d' Arras,  two  mock-heroic  poems; — of  these  poems, 
which  are  of  considerable  length,  the  first  was  composed  in  twen- 
ty-two days,  and  the  second  in  fifteen. 

Of  all  the  writers  who,  during  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  found  or 
deserved  a  lodging  in  the  Bastile,  Peter  Robbe  de  Beauveset  may, 
perhaps,  be  considered  as  one  of  the  most  degraded,  in  a  moral 
point  of  view.  He  was  born  at  Vendome,  in  1714,  received  a 
good  education,  and  was  not  destitute  of  talent.  At  an  early  age, 
he  began  to  write  poems  of  the  coarsest  obscenity,  and  he  con- 
tinued the  practice  till  almost  the  close  of  a  long  life.  To  repeat 
them  to  all  companies  that  would  listen,  seems  to  have  been  one 
of  his  greatest  pleasures.  Next  to  licentious  composition,  he  de- 
lighted in  satire.  His  verses  were  insufferably  harsh;  but  they 
now  and  then  displayed  happy  thoughts  and  forcible  expressions. 
To  give  an  idea  of  his  propensity  to  wallow  in  the  mire,  it  will  be 


280  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

sufficient  to  say,  that  he  chose  for  one  of  his  themes  the  only  dis- 
ease which  is  a  disgrace  to  the  sufferer,  and  that  the  song  was 
worthy  of  the  theme.  This  drew  on  him  the  sarcasm,  likely 
enough  to  be  true,  that  he  was  «« the  bard  of  the  unclean  malady, 
and  that  he  was  full  of  his  subject."  Having  tried  his  satirical 
skill  upon  Louis  XV.,  an  order  was  issued  to  seize  his  papers, 
and  he  would  certainly  have  paid  a  visit  to  the  Bastile,  had  he 
not  skillfully  parried  the  blow.  Being  timely  warned  of  his  dan- 
ger, he  destroyed  the  obnoxious  piece,  and  substituted  in  its  place 
another  of  an  opposite  kind.  This  stratagem  was  successful.  In- 
stead of  sending  him  to  prison,  the  king  pensioned  him,  and  gave 
him  apartments  in  the  palace  of  St.  Germain.  Severe  censors 
have  hinted,  that  the  debauched  monarch  wished  to  have  a  mo- 
nopoly of  the  poet's  obscene  rhymes.  Robbe  likewise  received  a 
pension  from  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  on  condition  that  he  should 
not  publish  his  objectionable  pieces.  He  kept  to  the  letter  of  his 
agreement;  he  did  not  print  them;  he  contented  himself  with 
reciting  them  to  as  many  hearers  as  he  could  find.  The  motive 
of  the  archbishop  we  can  comprehend ;  but  it  is  not  easy  to  per- 
ceive what  could  have  induced  the  Duchess  of  Olone  to  leave  a 
legacy  of  15,000  francs  to  so  shameless  a  writer,  and  to  speak  in 
flattering  terms  of  his  reputation  as  an  author!  Before  his  death, 
which  took  place  in  1794,  he  is  said  to  have  manifested  some 
signs  of  reformation. 

The  liability  to  be  thrust  into  a  prison,  for  the  purpose  of  grati- 
fying a  courtier,  or  other  powerful  enemy,  was  not  the  fate  of 
authors  alone;  the  men  who  devoted  their  talents,  and  shed  their 
blood,  to  enlarge  or  defend  the  dominion  of  their  country,  were 
equally  subject  to  it.  Striking  proof  of  this  fact  is  afforded  by 
the  persecution  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  Mahe  de  la  Bourdonnais 
and  Count  Lally. 

Bernard  Francis  Mahe  de  la  Bourdonnais  was  born  in  1699,  at 
St.  Malo ;  entered  the  service  of  the  East  India  Company  at  an 
early  period,  and  displayed  such  talent,  and  such  consummate 
knowledge  of  mercantile  as  well  as  of  naval  concerns,  that,  in 
1735,  he  was  appointed  governor-general  of  the  Isles  of  France 
and  Bourbon.  On  his  arrival  in  the  Isle  of  France,  he  found 
everything  in  a  state  of  penury  and  confusion.  In  a  very  short 
time,  however,  he  showed  what  can  be  done  by  a  man  of  abilities 
and  perseverance.  A  new  and  vivifying  spirit  was  breathed  by 
him  into  the  languishing  frame  of  the  colony.  Laws  and  police 
were  established  ;  arsenals,  docks,  forts,  magazines,  and  canals, 
were  constructed ;  and  the  cultivation  of  indigo,  cotton,  manioc, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

and  sugar,  was  introduced.  All  this  was  accomplished  within 
the  space  of  five  years.  Twice  La  Bourdonnais  was  sent  to  the 
coast  of  Coromandel,  with  succours  for  his  ungenerous  rival  and 
enemy  Dupleix;  the  first  time  in  1741,  the  second  in  1746.  To 
narrate  ail  the  exertions  of  La  Bourdonnais,  on  these  occasions, 
would  require  a  volume.  His  conduct  was  such  as  to  win  the 
warm  praise  of  the  English,  who  suffered  by  his  success.  The 
result  of  his  operations,  in  1746,  was  the  surrender  of  Madras; 
but  the  terms  of  the  capitulation  were  dishonourably  violated  by 
Dupleix,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  the  indignant  conqueror. 
Dupleix  having  appointed  another  governor  at  the  Isle  of  France, 
La  Bourdonnais  returned  to  Europe,  and  on  his  way  homeward 
was  taken  by  an  English  vessel.  In  England  he  met  with  that 
reception  which  was  due  to  a  talented  and  noble  foe,  and  was 
allowed  to  proceed  on  parole  to  his  native  country.  A  far  different 
greeting  awaited  him  in  France,  where  his  mean  and  malignant 
enemies  had  long  been  labouring  effectually  for  his  ruin.  He  had 
only  been  three  days  in  Paris  before  all  his  papers  were  seized, 
and  he  was  hurried  to  the  Bastile.  There  he  was  kept  in  solitary 
confinement  for  twenty-six  months,  not  even  his  wife  and  children 
being  allowed  access  to  him ;  nor  was  he  permitted  to  have  the 
means  of  writing.  One  of  the  charges  against  him,  founded  on 
the  testimony  of  a  soldier  who  had  been  hired  to  perjure  himself, 
was  that  he  had  secretly  conveyed  on  board  of  his  vessel  a  large 
sum  of  money  from  Madras.  To  refute  this  charge,  by  showing 
that  it  was  impossible  for  the  witness  to  have  seen  any  such  pro- 
ceeding from  the  spot  where  he  was  posted,  La  Bourdonnais, 
destitute  as  he  was  of  materials,  drew  from  memory  an  exact  plan 
of  Madras,  and  contrived  to  have  it  conveyed  to  the  commissioners 
who  were  appointed  to  investigate  his  conduct.  The  plan  was 
drawn  on  a  white  handkerchief,  with  a  rude  sort  of  pencil  formed 
from  a  slip  of  box,  and  dipped  in  brown  and  yellow  colours,  which 
he  obtained  from  coffee,  and  the  verdigris  scraped  from  copper 
coins.  This  curious  document  quickened  the  movements  of  his 
judges,  and  they  took  steps  to  bring  the  question  to  an  issue. 
After  having  undergone  an  imprisonment  of  three  years,  he  was 
pronounced  innocent,  and  was  released.  The  gift  of  liberty  came 
too  late  to  save  his  life;  his  health  was  undermined  by  grief, 
anxiety,  and  the  unwholesomeness  of  his  dungeon,  and  his  fortune 
had  melted  away  in  the  hands  of  his  persecutors ;  he  languished 
in  severe  pain,  and  in  a  state  of  indigence,  till  1755,  when  death 
put  an  end  to  his  sufferings. 

A  doom  still  more  severe  than  that  of  La  Bourdonnais  was  as- 


282  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

signed  to  the  unfortunate  Count  Lally.  Thomas  Arthur  Lally 
was  born  in  1702,  and  was  the  son  of  Sir  Gerard  Lally,  one  of 
those  high-minded  but  mistaken  Irishmen,  whose  ideas  of  duty 
led  them  to  expatriate  themselves  rather  than  to  renounce  their 
allegiance  to  the  second  James.  Young  Lally  was  early  conver- 
sant with  war ;  he  was  not  twelve  years  old  when  he  first  mounted 
guard,  in  the  trenches  before  Barcelona.  In  the  course  of  the 
next  thirty  years,  he  distinguished  himself  in  numerous  battle- 
fields, particularly  at  Dettingen  and  Fontenoy,  and  was  employed 
in  missions  to  England  and  Russia,  the  former  of  which,  not  a 
little  perilous,  was  undertaken  in  1737,  for  the  service  of  the  Stuart 
family.  To  the  house  of  Hanover  he  was  an  inveterate  foe,  and 
he  was  fertile  in  plans  for  its  overthrow.  On  the  breaking  out 
of  the  war  between  England  and  France  in  1756,  he  was  made  a 
lieutenant-general,  and  appointed  commandant  of  all  the  French 
establishments  in  Hindostan.  Unfortunately  for  him,  the  govern- 
ment unwisely  delayed  his  departure,  and  withdrew  a  part  of  the 
force  which  had  been  intended  to  accompany  him.  When  he 
reached  Pondicherry  he  found  everything  in  confusion,  none  of 
the  resources  which  he  had  expected  to  find,  and,  worse  than  all, 
men  in  office  who  knew  that  he  meant  to  punish  peculators,  and 
who  were  therefore  incessantly  on  the  alert  to  thwart  all  his  plans. 
Their  machinations  were  aided  by  his  own  defects  ;•  for  he  was 
harsh,  violent,  and  headstrong,  in  an  extraordinary  degree.  Vol- 
taire says  of  him,  that  "  he  had  found  the  secret  of  making  him- 
self hated  by  everybody,"  and  that  *«  every  one,  except  the  exe- 
cutioner, had  a  right  to  kill  him."  There  is  much  exaggeration 
in  this  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  Lally  was,  and  deserved  to  be,  an 
unpopular  man. 

In  spite  of  the  scantiness  of  his  means,  Lally  took  the  field 
against  the  English  with  a  firm  resolve  to  drive  them  out  of  India. 
His  first  operations  were  successful.  He  made  himself  master  of 
Goudalour,  Fort  St.  David,  and  Devicotta,  but  here  his  good  for- 
tune ended  ;  he  was  foiled  in  an  attack  on  Tanjore,  and  was  sub- 
sequently compelled  to  raise  the  siege  of  Madras.  His  failure 
must  not  be  attributed  to  want  of  military  skill ;  he  was  nearly 
without  resources,  and  there  was  in  his  own  army  a  powerful  fac- 
tion which  was  hostile  to  him.  The  council  of  Pondicherry,  too, 
hated  him  with  such  a  deadly  hatred  that  it  rejoiced  in,  and  even 
helped  to  cause  his  disappointments.  Invested  at  last  in  Pondi- 
cherry by  the  English,  he  defended  the  place  with  desperate  cou- 
rage, but  was  compelled  by  famine  to  surrender. 

On  his  return  to  France,  Lally  attacked  his  enemies  with  his 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  283 

wonted  impetuosity.  Their  influence,  however,  was  superior  to 
his,  and  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile.  Nineteen  months  elapsed 
before  he  was  even  questioned.  The  trial  was  at  last  commenced, 
and  it  occupied  more  than  two  years.  The  whole  of  the  proceed- 
ings teemed  with  the  most  flagrant  injustice  ;  there  was  a  manifest 
determination  to  send  the  prisoner  to  the  scaffold.  The  language 
used  by  some  of  his  judges  deserved  the  severest  punishment. 
Sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  on  the  6th  of  May,  1766.  On 
its  being  made  known  to  him,  Lally  stabbed  himself  with  a  pair 
of  compasses,  but  the  wound  was  not  mortal.  Three  days  after- 
wards, he  was  taken  to  execution,  and,  that  nothing  might  be 
wanting  to  lacerate  his  feelings,  he  was  conveyed  in  a  mud-cart, 
and  his  mouth  was  gagged.  This  brutality  had  a  contrary  effect  to 
that  which  was  expected ;  it  excited  for  him  the  sympathy  of  the 
spectators,  and  covered  his  enemies  with  execration  and  disgrace. 
The  son  of  Count  Lally,  advantageously  known  during  the  revo- 
lution as  Count  Lally-Tolendal,  obtained,  some  years  afterwards, 
a  solemn  reversal  of  the  sentence,  and  the  restoration  of  his  pa- 
rent's honour. 

Caradeuc  de  la  Chalotais,  a  Breton  magistrate,  estimable  for  his 
talents  and  rectitude,  is  the  next  who  comes  forward  on  the  scene. 
He  appears  to  have  been  indebted  for  his  misfortunes  partly  to 
the  Jesuits,  whose  order  he  had  assisted  to  suppress  in  France, 
and  partly  to  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon,  whom  he  had  offended,  by 
venturing  to  hint  a  doubt  of  his  courage.  He  was  a  native  of 
Rennes,  born  in  1701,  and  became  attorney-general  in  the  parlia- 
ment of  Brittany.  His  two  Comptes  Rendus,  against  the  Jesuits, 
which  contributed  much  to  their  overthrow,  and  his  Essay  on 
National  Education,  which  forms  a  kind  of  supplement  to  them, 
are  spoken  of  in  the  most  laudatory  terms  by  Voltaire.  La  Chal- 
otais subsequently  acted  a  conspicuous  part,  when  the  parliament 
of  Brittany  refused  to  register  some  of  the  royal  edicts  which 
violated  the  Breton  privileges.  The  Duke  d'Aiguillon  was  then 
governor  of  the  province,  and  we  may  believe  that  he  was  not 
sorry  to  take  vengeance  for  the  sarcasm  which  the  attorney-gene- 
ral had  aimed  at  him.  The  Jesuits,  too,  are  said  to  have  spared 
no  pains  to  accomplish  their  enemy's  destruction.  In  November, 
1765,  La  Chalotais,  his  son,  and  four  of  the  parliament  counselors, 
were  arrested,  and  in  the  following  month,  they  were  placed  in 
close  confinement  in  the  citadel  of  St.  Malo.  The  main  charges 
against  La  Chalotais  were,  that  he  had  written  two  anonymous 
letters  to  one  of  the  secretaries  of  state,  which  contained  insults 
upon  the  king  and  his  ministers,  and  that  he  had  entered  into  a 


284  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

conspiracy  against  the  regal  authority.  With  respect  to  the  let- 
ters, though  some  persons  accustomed  to  examine  handwritings 
asserted  them  to  be  his,  the  vulgar  style  and  incorrect  spelling 
render  it  in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that  he  was  their  au- 
thor. He  himself  denied  the  charge  in  the  most  emphatic  man- 
ner. La  Chalotais  was  carefully  secluded  from  all  correspondence, 
and  deprived  of  pen  and  ink;  he,  nevertheless,  contrived  to  pro- 
duce three  eloquent  memorials  in  his  defence,  and  to  procure  a 
wide  circulation  of  them.  They  were  written  on  scraps  of  paper 
which  had  contained  sugar  and  chocolate,  with  a  pen  made  from 
a  toothpick,  and  ink  composed  of  soot,  sugar,  vinegar,  and  water. 
A  commission  was  at  first  formed  to  try  the  prisoners,  but  the 
cause  was  afterwards  removed  into  the  council  of  state,  and  the 
captives  were  transferred  to  the  Bastile.  A  stop  was,  however, 
put  to  the  proceedings  by  the  king,  and  the  accused  individuals 
were  exiled  to  Saintes.  An  attempt  was  made  to  prevail  on  La 
Chalotais  to  resign  his  office,  but  he  refused  to  listen  to  the  mes- 
senger. On  the  death  of  Louis  XV.  his  successor  allowed  La 
Chalotais  to  resume  his  seat  in  parliament,  and  the  magistrate 
retained  it  till  his  decease  in  1785. 

The  celebrated  Curran,  whose  conversational  talents  no  one 
that  witnessed  them  could  possibly  forget,  once  said  to  me,  in  allu- 
sion to  the  transient  intoxication  produced  by  champagne,  that  it 
made  a  runaway  rap  at  a  man's  head.  It  may,  perhaps,  from  a 
similar  reason,  be  allowable  to  say,  that  a  runaway  rap  was  made 
at  the  liberty  of  the  person  who  is  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 
Francis  Louis  Marin  had  scarcely  time  to  lament  the  loss  of  his 
liberty  before  it  was  restored  to  him.  Marin  was  a  Provencal, 
born  at  Ciotat,  in  1721 :  after  having  been  a  chorister,  and  then 
an  organist,  he  adopted  the  clerical  profession,  and  went  to  Paris, 
where  he  became  tutor  to  the  son  of  a  nobleman.  His  manner 
and  figure,  which  were  good,  and  his  talents,  which  were  far 
from  contemptible,  gained  him  many  patrons  in  the  French 
capital.  He  now  quitted  his  ecclesiastical  pursuits,  was  admitted 
a  barrister,  and  published  various  works,  one  of  which,  the  History 
of  Saladin,  is  perhaps  the  best  of  all  his  productions,  and  is  still  in 
repute;  it  was  dedicated  to  St.  Florentin,  one  of  the  ministers, and 
gained  for  its  author  the  appointment  of  royal  censor,  to  which  was 
subsequently  added  that  of  secretary-general  to  Sartine,  who  had 
been  placed- at  the  head  of  the  inquisitorial  office,  to  which  prin- 
ters and  publishers  were  amenable.  As  secretary-general  he 
seems  to  have  satisfied  no  one ;  he  was  desirous  of  befriending  the 
philosophical  party,  in  which  he  had  several  friends,  but  was  still 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

more  desirous  of  retaining  his  lucrative  post.  The  consequence 
was  that  he  sometimes  winked  at,  and  even  aided,  infractions  of 
the  law,  and  then  sought  to  propitiate  his  employers  by  additional 
vigilance  and  severity.  Marin  was  certainly  not  overburthened 
with  delicacy;  and,  unless  he  is  much  belied,  he  increased  his 
income  by  acting  as  purveyor  to  ihe  disgraceful  amours  of  his 
royal  master.  In  1763,  he  was  confined  for  twenty-four  hours 
in  the  Bastile,  for  having,  in  his  censorial  character,  neglected  to 
expunge  some  lines  from  one  of  Dorat's  tragedies.  A  few  years 
afterwards,  he  was  deprived  of  a  pension  of  2000  livres,  because 
he  had  allowed  Favart's  comic  opera  of  the  Gleaner  to  be  acted 
and  published.  In  1771,  he  was  made  editor  of  the  Gazette  de 
France,  in  which  capacity  he  brought  upon  himself  a  perpetual 
shower  of  epigrams  and  sarcasms.  Many  of  these,  annoying 
shafts  were  aimed  at  him  by  the  "Nouvelies  a-la-main,"  and  he 
had  the  weakness  to  demand  that  the  editor  of  the  paper  should 
be  arrested.  He  had  soon  the  misfortune  or  the  folly  to  provoke 
a  much  more  formidable  enemy,  the  witty  and  eloquent  Beaumar- 
chais,  who  covered  him  with  ridicule.  To  complete  his  vexation, 
no  long  time  elapsed  before  the  Count  de  Vergennes  dismissed 
him,  and  in  the  most  humiliating  manner,  from  the  royal  censor- 
ship and  the  superintendence  of  the  Gazette.  Marin  then  retired 
to  his  native  town,  where  he  busied  himself  in  literary  pursuits. 
By  the  revolution  he  lost  a  considerable  part  of  his  income;  but 
to  his  credit  it  must  be  owned,  that  he  did  not  lose  his  temper  or 
his  spirits;  he  died  in  1809.  Marin  had  some  praiseworthy  quali- 
ties; he  is  said  to  have  been  ready  to  do  acts  of  kindness,  and 
even  to  have  often  run  serious  risks  to  serve  his  friends.  But  here 
we  must  stop,  for  it  appears  that  his  principles  and  his  morals  were 
lamentably  defective ;  one  of  his  biographers,  who  writes  of  him 
in  a  friendly  spirit,  owns  that  in  extreme  old  age  he  had  "a  taste 
for  pleasure,  and  even  for  libertinism." 

Less  fortunate  than  Marin,  Farmain  De  Rozoi,  or  as  he  was 
generally  called  Durosoi,  did  not  pay  a  visit  of  only  twenty-four 
hours  to  the  Bastile.  Durosoi  was  a  Parisian  by  birth,  and  seems 
to  have  early  betaken  himself  to  "the  idle  trade"  of  literature. 
He  tried  many  kinds  of  authorship,  and  was  far  below  mediocrity 
in  all;  novels,  histories,  poems,  and  plays,  especially  the  latter,  he 
poured  forth  in  rapid  succession,  drawing  down  abundance  of 
bitter  sarcasms  from  the  critics,  and  gaining  little  emolument  to 
himself.  Among  the  dramatic  subjects  which  he  chose  was 
Henry  IV.,  and  he  was  so  delighted  with  his  hero,  that  he 
brought  him  on  the  stage  in  three  different  pieces.  The  appella- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


tion  of  "the  modern  Ravaillac,"  which  he  acquired  by  those 
pieces,  shows  how  wofully  the  monarch  fared  under  his  hands. 
But  Durosoi  had  worse  enemies  than  the  critics ;  on  an  erroneous 
suspicion  of  his  being  the  author  of  two  obnoxious  works,  he 
was  shut  up  for  two  months  in  the  Bastiie.  When  the  revolution 
broke  out  he  espoused  the  royal  cause,  and  became  editor  of  the 
Gazette  de  Paris.  He  was  a  zealous  and  certainly  an  honest 
advocate  of  that  cause.  Though  slenderly  endowed  with  talents, 
he  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  courage  and  noble  feelings. 
When  Louis  XVI.,  after  his  flight  to  the  frontier,  was  under 
restraint  in  the  Tuileries,  Durosoi  formed  the  romantic  but  gene- 
rous project  of  obtaining  the  king's  liberty,  by  inducing  the  friends 
of  Louis  to  offer  themselves  as  hostages  for  him ;  and  a  great 
number  of  individuals  actually  consented  to  render  themselves 
personally  responsible  for  the  sovereign's  conduct.  Durosoi  did 
not  slacken  in  his  hostility  to  the  revolutionists,  till  their  final 
success  on  the  10th  of  August  compelled  him  to  drop  the  pen. 
HQ  was  one  of  their  earliest  victims  on  the  scaffold,  he  being 
executed  by  torch-light  only  nineteen  days  after  the  downfall  of 
the  monarchy.  He  died  with  the  utmost  firmness;  in  a  letter 
which  he  left  behind  him,  he  declared,  that,  "a  royalist  like  him 
was  worthy  to  die  on  St.  Louis's  day,  for  his  religion  and  his 
king."  It  is  said,  that,  with  the  laudable  desire  of  benefiting 
mankind  by  his  death,  he  was  desirous  that  his  blood  should  be 
employed  in  trying  the  experiment  of  transfusion. 

The  French  revolution,  which  ultimately  consigned  Durosoi  to 
death,  opened  the  prison-gates  of  a  man,  of  whom  few  particulars 
are  recorded,  but  whose  courage  and  unmerited  sufferings  deserve 
our  admiration  and  pity.  It  will  scarcely  be  credited  that,  from 
a  very  early  period  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  there  existed  an 
infamous  monopoly  of  grain,  which  was  managed  for  the  benefit 
of  the  monarch.  Corn,  bought  at  a  low  price  in  plentiful  sea- 
sons, was  hoarded  up,  and  sold  at  an  immense  profit  in  times  of 
scarcity;  The  circumstance  was  kept  as  secret  as  possible  for 
many  years,  but  the  truth  got  out,  and  the  name  of  "  the  compact 
of  famine"  was  popularly  given  to  the  monopoly.  A  patriotic 
individual,  Prevost  de  Beaumont,  the  secretary  of  the  clergy, 
formed  the  daring  project  of  at  one  sweep  gaining  possession  of 
all  the  documents  relative  to  this  affair,  and  revealing  to  France  the 
whole  machinery  of  the  scandalous  system.  When,  however, 
he  was  about  to  carry  his  plan  into  effect,  he  was  seized  by  the 
police  and  conveyed  to  the  Bastiie.  In  that  prison,  and  at  Vin- 
cennes,  he  spent  twenty-two  years,  his  hands  and  feet  heavily 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BA  STILE. 

ironed,  a  bare  board  for  his  bed,  and  a  scanty  portion  of  bread  and 
water  for  his  daily  subsistence ;  he  would  no  doubt  have  perished 
in  his  dungeon,  had  not  the  chains  which  he  had  so  long  worn 
been  broken  by  the  strong  hand  of  the  French  people. 

A  striking  proof  how  liable  to  abuse  is  irresponsible  power 
placed  in  the  hands  of  ministers  of  state  and  of  monopolizing  cor- 
porations, is  afforded  by  the  persecution  of  Barletti  St.  Paul,  a  man 
of  considerable  abilities,  who  was  born  at  Paris,  in  1734.  So 
precocious  was  his  talent,  that,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  he  had  made 
himself  master  of  all  that  the  best  teachers  could  communicate  to 
him.  After  having  been  for  a  while  sub-preceptor  of  the  junior 
branches  of  the  royal  family,  he  was  involved  in  a  quarrel,  in 
consequence  of  which  he  quitted 'France.  He  resided  for  six 
years  at  Naples,  after  which  he  was  intrusted  by  the  Dauphin 
with  a  diplomatic  mission  at  Rome;  and,  when  he  had  fulfilled 
this  mission,  he  returned  to  his  native  country. 

Rapidly  as  St.  Paul  had  acquired  knowledge,  he  was  thoroughly 
dissatisfied  with  the  method  of  instruction  then  in  use,  and  parti- 
cularly with  the  various  and  discordant  systems  which  were  fol- 
lowed by  preceptors.  He  therefore  undertook  the  Herculean 
task  of  forming  a  collection  of  elementary  treatises  on  the  sciences 
and  arts,  with  new  modes  of  studying  languages.  On  this  ency- 
clopedic labour  he  was,  at  intervals,  employed  during  nearly  the 
whole  of  his  life.  Eighteen  volumes  of  it  were  completed,  and 
he  was  on  the  point  of  seeing  them  brought  before  the  public, 
when  his  prospects  were  destroyed  by  the  base  jealousy  of  one 
learned  body,  and  the  legal  despotism  of  another.  As  the  cost 
of  printing  the  work  would  be  great,  a  society  of  his  friends  was 
formed,  for  the  purpose  of  accomplishing  the  publication  in  con- 
cert, and  a  public  meeting  was  announced,  to  deliberate  on  the 
necessary  arrangements.  But  the  University  of  Paris  had  taken 
the  alarm.  Like  all  old  and  pampered  institutions,  it  hated  novelty, 
and  trembled  lest  its  monopoly  should  be  shaken.  To  avert  the 
dreaded  evil, it  had  recourse  to  the  parliament;  and  the  compliant 
parliament  issued  a  prohibition  against  the  meeting.  This  step 
was  backed  by  the  appointment  of  four  commissioners  to  examine 
the  work.  It  did  not  require  the  spirit  of  prophecy  to  predict 
that  commissioners,  chosen  under  such  auspices,  would  be  any- 
thing but  impartial.  The  hackneyed  joke,  of  suing  his  Satanic 
majesty  in  one  of  the  infernal  courts,  is '  pretty  sure  to  be  realized 
on  such  occasions.  The  report  which  they  made  was  so  unfa- 
vourable, that  a  complete  stop  was  put  to  the  scheme  of  pub- 
lishing. St.  Paul  did  not  tamely  submit  to  this  treatment.  He 


288  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


procured  to  be  printed,  at  Brussels,  a  pamphlet,  which  was  enti- 
tled The  Secret  Revealed.  Sartine,  the  minister  of  police,  who 
had  been  one  of  his  active  enemies,  was  somewhat  roughly  han- 
dled in  this  production.  The  king  of  spies,  gaols,  and  gibbets,  was 
not  a  man  to  be  attacked  with  impunity,  and  he  avenged  himself 
in  a  manner  which  was  worthy  of  him,  by  suppressing  the 
pamphlet,  and  sending  its  author  to  the  Bastile. 

At  the  expiration  of  three  months,  the  intercession  of  the  Car- 
dinal de  Rohan  obtained  the  liberation  of  St.  Paul.  He  then  went 
to  Spain,  where  he  became  belles-lettres  at  Segovia;  an  ap- 
pointment which  he  held  for  three  years.  Returning  again  to 
France,  he  published  a  New  System  of  Typography,  to  diminish 
the  labour  of  compositors.  For  this  the  government  rewarded 
him  by  a  grant  of  twenty  thousand  livres,  and  by  printing  five 
hundred  copies  of  his  volume  at  the  Louvre  press.  His  improve- 
ment consisted  in  casting  in  one  mass  the  diphthongs,  triphthongs, 
and  all  the  most  frequently  occurring  combinations  of  letters.  A 
similar  plan,  with  the  name  of  the  Logographic,  was  tried  in  Lon- 
don, a  few  years  afterwards,  but  it  was  soon  abandoned. 

St.  Paul  continued  to  labour  indefatigably  on  his  ameliorated 
system  of  education  ;  he  gained  in  its  favour  the  suffrage  of  Sicard, 
who  was  one  of  three  persons  whom  the  National  Institute  nomi- 
nated to  examine  it;  but  he  did  not  live  to  complete  it,  and  only 
a  small  specimen  of  it  was  ever  published.  He  passed  unhurt 
through  the  storms  of  the  Revolution,  and  died  at  Paris,  in  1809. 
One  of  his  best  works,  "  The  means  of  avoiding  the  customary 
Errors  in  the  Instruction  of  Youth,"  suggests  a  mode  by  which 
two  scholars  may  reciprocally  give  lessons  to  each  other. 

Almost  the  last  prisoner,  perhaps  the  last  of  any  note,  who  was 
committed  to  the  Bastile  in  the  closing  year  of  Louis  the  Fifteenth's 
reign,  was  a  man  who  subsequently  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in 
politics  and  war.  Charles  Francis  Duperier  Dumouriez,  born  at 
Cambray,  in  1739,  was  the  son  of  an  army  commissary,  who 
translated  the  Ricciardetto,  and  wrote  some  dramatic  pieces.  After 
having  been  educated  with  much  care,  Dumouriez  obtained  a 
cornetcy,  and,  before  the  close  of  the  seven  years'  war,  he  had  re- 
ceived two-and-twenty  wounds,  nineteen  of  which  were  inflicted  on 
him  in  a  combat  which  he  gallantly  maintained  against  twenty  hus- 
sars, five  of  whom  he  disabled.  Peace  being  concluded,  he  traveled 
in  Italy,  Spain,  and  Portugal.  In  1768  and  1769,  he  served  with 
distinction  in  Corsica,  and  rose  to  the  rank  of  colonel.  The  Duke 
de  Choiseul  employed  him  in  1770,  on  a  mission  in  Poland,  to 
support  the  confederation  of  Bar  against  the  Russians,  but  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

dismissal  of  the  duke,  which  took  place  soon  after,  led  to  the  re- 
call of  the  envoy.  Dumouriez  was  next  intrusted  by  Louis  XV. 
with  a  secret  mission  to  the  court  of  Gustavus  of  Sweden,  relative 
to  the  revolution  which  that  sovereign  was  then  planning.  This 
was  done  by  Louis,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  similar  steps, 
without  the  knowledge  of  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon,  the  minister  for 
foreign  affairs.  Dumouriez  was  in  consequence  arrested  at  Ham- 
burgh, by  order  of  the  duke,  and  conveyed  to  the  Bastile,  Louis 
not  having  spirit  enough  to  avow  his  own  acts.  During  his  six 
months'  imprisonment,  Dumouriez  wrote  various  works.  The 
accession  of  Louis  XVI.  restored  the  captive  to  liberty ;  and  he 
successively  obtained  the  government  .of  Cherbourg,  and  the  com- 
mand of  the  country  between  Nantes  and  Bordeaux.  That  such 
a  man  should  not  take  an  active  part  in  the  French  revolution  was 
impossible.  But  Dumouriez  was  not,  as  the  ultra-royalists  have 
unjustly  described  him  to  be,  an  enemy  of  the  throne;  he  was,  in 
truth,  a  constitutional  royalist.  In  1792,  he  was  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant-general,  and  was  appointed  minister  for  foreign 
affairs,  from  which  office  he  was  shortly  afterwards  removed  to 
the  war  department.  That  department,  however,  he  held  only 
for  four  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  resigned.  The  duration 
of  his  official  existence  did  not  exceed  three  months.  He  was  now 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  army  which  was  destined  to  repel  the 
Prussians,  who  were  led  by  the  Duke  of  Brunswick.  By  a  mas- 
terly disposition  of  his  troops,  in  the  defiles  of  Champagne,  he  com- 
pletely foiled  the  enemy,  and  compelled  them  to  make  a  ruinous 
retreat.  He  then  broke  into  the  Netherlands,  gained  the  battle  of 
Jemappe,  revolutionized  the  whole  country,  and  carried  the  French 
arms  into  Holland.  Quitting  his  army  for  a  while,  he  visited 
Paris,  for  the  purpose  of  endeavouring  to  save  the  king,  but  in 
that  he  failed,  and  rendered  himself  an  object  of  suspicion.  The 
tide  of  military  success,  too,  at  length  began  to  turn  against  him. 
He  lost  the  battle  of  Neerwinden,  and  was  forced  to  abandon  the 
Low  Countries.  Commissioners  were  now  sent  by  the  Conven- 
tion to  arrest  him  ;  and,  after  having  vainly  endeavoured  to  rally 
his  army  on  his  side,  he  was  obliged  to  seek  for  safety  in  flight. 
After  having  resided  in  various  foreign  countries,  he  finally  set- 
tled in  England,  where  he  was  often  consulted  by  the  ministers. 
Though  he  was  decidedly  hostile  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  he 
took  no  share  in  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  nor  did  he  ap- 
prove of  their  conduct.  Dumouriez  died  on  the  14th  of  March, 
1823,  and  was  interred  at  Henley,  in  Oxfordshire.  His  works 
19 


290  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

are  numerous;  the  most  interesting  of  them  are,  his  Memoirs,  and 
the  Present  State  of  Portugal. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Captivity  and  Sufferings  of  Masers  de  Latude — Cause  of  his  Imprisonment — He 
is  removed  from  the  Bastile  to  Vincennes — He  escapes — He  is  retaken,  and 
sent  to  the  Bastile. — Kindness  of  M.  Berryer. — D'Alegre  is  confined  in  the 
same  apartment  with  him. — Latude  forms  a  plan  for  escaping. — Preparations 
for  executing  it. — The  Prisoners  descend  from  the  summit  of  the  Bastile,  and 
escape.— They  are  recaptured  in  Holland,  and  brought  back.— Latude  is  thrown 
into  a  horrible  dungeon — He  tames  rats,  and  makes  a  musical  pipe — Plans 
suggested  by  him — His  writing  materials  —  He  attempts  suicide  —  Pigeons 
tamed  by  him — New  plans  suggested  by  him — Finds  means  to  fling  a  packet 
of  papers  from  the  top  of  the  Bastile — He  is  removed  to  Vincennes — He 
escapes — Is  recaptured — Opens  a  communication  with  his  fellow-prisoners 
— Is  transferred  to  Charenton — His  situation  there — His  momentary  liberation 
— He  is  re-arrested,  and  sent  to  the  Bicetre — Horrors  of  that  prison — Heroic 
benevolence  of  Madame  Legros — She  succeeds  in  obtaining  his  release. — 
Subsequent  fate  of  Latude. 

IN  one  of  the  finest  passages  that  ever  flowed  from  his  pen, 
Sterne  alludes  to  the  comparatively  trifling  effect  produced  on  the 
mind,  when  it  endeavours  to  form  a  collective  idea  of  the  misery 
which  is  felt  by  a  throng  of  sufferers.  "Leaning  my  head  upon 
my  hand,"  says  he,  "I  began  to  figure  to  myself  the  miseries  of 
confinement.  I  was  in  a  right  frame  for  it,  and  so  I  gave  full 
scope  to  my  imagination. 

"  I  was  going  to  begin  with  the  millions  of  my  fellow-creatures 
born  to  no  inheritance  but  slavery ;  but  finding,  however  affecting 
the  picture  was,  that  I  could  not  bring  it  near  me,  but  that  the 
multitude  of  groups  in  it  did  but  distract  me,  I  took  a  single  cap- 
tive, and  having  first  shut  him  up  in  his  dungeon,  I  then  looked 
through  the  twilight  of  his  grated  door  to  take  his  picture. 

"  I  beheld  his  body  half  wasted  away  with  long  expectation 
and  confinement,  and  felt  what  sickness  of  the  heart  it  was  which 
arises  from  hope  deferred.  Upon  looking  nearer,  I  saw  him  pale 
and  feverish;  in  thirty  years  the  western  breeze  had  not  once 
fanned  his  blood;  he  had  seen  no  sun,  no  moon,  in  all  that  time 
— nor  had  the  voice  of  friend  or  kinsman  breathed  through  his 
lattice." 

It  is  even  as  Sterne  asserts.     The  contemplation  of  the  woes 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  291 

which  are  undergone  by  a  large  aggregate  of  persons,  seems  in- 
deed to  act  on  the  mind  somewhat  in  the  manner  of  a  heavy  mis- 
fortune; it  bewilders  and  benumbs  the  feelings.  When  we  read 
of  a  single  individual  falling  beneath  the  knife  of  a  murderer,  we 
are  more  violently  startled  and  thrilled,  and  the  impression  made 
is  more  permanent,  than  when  we  read  of  the  thousands  who 
groan  out  their  lives  on  the  field  of  battle ;  though,  in  the  latter 
case,  the  largest  part  of  the  victims,  mutilated,  torn,  trampled  on, 
and  slowly  dying  without  succour,  and  distant  from  all  that  is 
dear  to  them,  endure  agonies  far  beyond  those  which  are  inflicted 
by  the  stab  of  an  assassin. 

Let  us,  therefore,  now  follow  the  example  of  Sterne.  Hitherto 
the  reader  has  seen  only  a  rapid  succession  of  captives  passing 
before  him,  like  the  shadows  of  a  magic  lantern ;  he  has  had  but 
glimpses  of  the  wretchedness  that  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  prisoner; 
for,  with  respect  to  nearly  the  whole  of  the  individuals  chronicled 
in  this  volume,  we  know,  as  to  their  situation  while  in  durance, 
little  beyond  the  circumstance  of  their  having  been  incarcerated ; 
their  persecutors  ensured  their  silence  by  retaining  them  till  they 
sunk  into  the  grave,  or  by  the  terror  of  becoming  once  more  in- 
mates of  a  dungeon.  While  the  Bastile  was  standing,  few  would 
venture  even  to  whisper  what  they  had  experienced  within  its 
walls.  Fortunately,  however,  there  does  exist  one  faithful  record 
of  the  severest  woes,  protracted  by  untirable  tormentors,  through 
a  series  of  years  extending  to  half  the  natural  life  of  man.  Let 
us  then  avail  ourselves  of  it,  fix  our  attention  steadily  on  a  single 
individual,  watch  his  anguish,  bodily  and  mental,  his  privations, 
his  struggles,  and  his  despair,  and  mark  how  deeply  the  iron  can 
be  made  to  enter  into  his  soul  by  vindictive  and  ruthless  tyrants. 

Henry  Masers  de  Latude,  the  person  alluded  to,  spent  thirty- 
five  years  in  the  Bastile  and  other  places  of  confinement.  If  we 
did  not  know  that  power,  when  it  is  held  by  the  base-minded,  is 
exercised  by  them  without  mercy,  to  punish  whoever  offends 
them,  we  might  suppose  that  Latude  brought  his  long  agonies 
upon  himself  by  the  commission  of  some  enormous  crime.  That 
he  committed  a  fault  is  undeniable,  and  it  was  a  fault  of  that  sort 
which  most  disgusts  high-spirited  men,  because  it  bears  the  stamp 
of  meanness  and  fraud.  It  deserved  a  sharp  reprimand,  perhaps 
even  a  moderate  chastisement;  but  no  heart  that  was  not  as  hard 
as  the  nether  millstone,  could  have  made  it  a  pretext  for  the  in- 
fliction of  such  lengthened  misery  as  he  was  doomed  to  undergo. 

Latude,  who  was,  in  his  twenty-fifth  year  when  his  misfor- 
tunes began,  was  the  son  of  the  Marquis  de  Latude,  a  military 


292  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


officer,  and  was  born  in  Languedoc.  He  was  intended  for  the 
engineer  service,  but.  the  peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  prevented  him 
from  being  enrolled.  The  notorious  Marchioness  de  Pompadour, 
who  united  in  herself  the  double  demerit  of  being  the  royal  harlot 
and  procuress,  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  power,  and  was  as 
much  detested  by  the  people  as  she  was  favoured  by  the  sove- 
reign. As  Latude  was  one  day  sitting  in  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries,  he  heard  two  men  vehemently  inveighing  against  her ; 
and  a  thought  struck  him,  that  by  turning  this  circumstance  to 
account,  he  might  obtain  her  patronage.  His  plan  was  a  clumsy 
one,  and  it  was  clumsily  executed.  He  began  by  putting  into  the 
post-office  a  packet  of  harmless  powder,  directed  to  the  marchio- 
ness ;  he  then  waited  on  her,  related  the  conversation  which  he 
had  overheard,  said  that  he  had  seen  them  put  a  packet  into  the 
post-office,  and  expressed  his  fears  that  it  contained  some  ex- 
tremely subtle  poison.  She  offered  him  a  purse  of  gold,  but  he 
refused  it,  and  declared  that  he  was  only  desirous  of  being  re- 
warded by  her  protection.  Suspicious  of  his  purpose,  she  wished 
to  see  his  handwriting;  and,  therefore,  under  pretence  of  intend- 
ing to  communicate  with  him,  she  asked  for  his  address.  He 
wrote  it,  and,  unfortunately  for  him,  he  wrote  it  in  the  same  hand 
in  which  he  had  directed  the  pretended  poison.  He  was  then 
graciously  dimissed.  The  sameness  of  the  writing,  and  the  result 
of  the  experiments  which  she  ordered  to  be  made  on  the  contents 
of  the  packet,  convinced  her  that  the  whole  was  a  fraud.  It  is 
scarcely  possible  not  to  smile  at  the  blundering  folly  of  the  youth- 
ful impostor;  had  he  sent  real  poison,  and  disguised  his  hand- 
writing, he  would  perhaps  have  succeeded. 

But  this  proved  to  be  no  laughing  matter  to  the  luckless  Latude. 
The  marchioness  looked  upon  the  trick  as  an  unpardonable  insult, 
and  she  was  not  slow  in  revenging  it.  In  the  course  of  a  few 
days,  while  he  was  indulging  in  golden  dreams,  he  was  painfully 
awoke  from  them  by  the  appearance  of  the  officers  of  justice. 
They  carried  him  to  the  Bastile,  and  there  he  was  stripped,  de- 
prived of  his  money,  jewels,  and  papers,  clothed  in  wretched  rags, 
and  shut  up  in  the  Tower  du  Coin.  On  the  following  day,  the 
2d  of  May,  1749,  he  was  interrogated  by  M.  Berryer,  the  lieu- 
tenant of  police.  Unlike  many  of  his  class,  Berryer  was  a  man 
of  feeling ;  he  promised  to  intercede  for  him  with  the  marchioness, 
and,  in  the  meanwhile,  he  endeavoured  to  make  him  as  comfortable 
as  a  man  could  be  who  was  robbed  of  his  liberty.  To  make  the 
time  pass  less  heavily,  he  gave  him  a  comrade,  a  Jew,  a  man  of 
abilities,  Abuzaglo  by  name,  who  was  accused  of  being  a  secret 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  293 

British  agent.  The  two  captives  soon  became  friends ;  Abuzaglo 
had  hopes  of  speedy  liberation  through  the  influence  of  the  Prince 
of  Conti,  and  he  promised  to  obtain  the  exercise  of  that  influence 
in  behalf  of  his  companion.  Latude,  on  his  part,  in  case  of  his 
being  first  released,  bound  himself  to  strain  every  nerve  to  rescue 
Abuzaglo. 

Ever  on  the  listen  to  catch  the  conversation  of  the  prisoners, 
the  gaolers  appear  to  have  obtained  a  knowledge  of  the  hopes  and 
reciprocal  engagements  of  the  friends.  When  Latude  had  been 
four  months  at  the  Bastile,  three  turnkeys  entered,  and  said  that 
an  order  was  come  to  set  him  free.  Abuzaglo  embraced  him,  and 
conjured  him  to  remember  his  promise.  But  no  sooner  had  the 
joyful  Latude  crossed  the  threshold  of  his  prison,  than  he  was  told 
that  he  was  only  going  to  be  removed  to  Vincennes.  Abuzaglo 
was  liberated  shortly  after;  but  believing  that  Latude  was  free, 
and  had  broken  his  word  to  him,  he  ceased  to  take  an  interest  in 
his  fate. 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  the  health  of  Latude  gave  way  under 
the  pressure  of  grief  and  disappointment.  M.  Berryer  came  to 
console  him,  removed  him  to  the  most  comfortable  apartment  in 
the  castle,  and  allowed  him  to  walk  daily  for  two  hours  in  the  gar- 
den. But  he  did  not  conceal  that  the  marchioness  was  inflexible, 
and  in  consequence  of  this,  the  captive,  who  felt  a  prophetic  fear 
that  he  was  destined  to  perpetual  imprisonment,  resolved  to  make 
an  attempt  to  escape.  Nearly  nine  months  elapsed  before  he  could 
find  an  opportunity  to  carry  his  plan  into  effect.  The  moment  at 
length  arrived.  One  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  an  ecclesiastic,  was 
frequently  visited  by  an  abbe ;  and  this  circumstance  he  made  the 
basis  of  his  project.  To  succeed,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
elude  the  vigilance  of  two  turnkeys,  who  guarded  him  when  he 
walked,  and  of  four  sentinels,  who  watched  the  outer  doors,  and 
this  was  no  easy  matter.  Of  the  turnkeys,  one  often  waited  in 
the  garden,  while  the  other  went  to  fetch  the  prisoner.  Latude 
began  by  accustoming  the  second  turnkey  to  see  him  hurry  down 
stairs,  and  join  the  first  in  the  garden.  When  the  day  came  on 
which  he  was  determined  to  take  flight,  he,  as  usual,  passed  ra- 
pidly down  the  stairs  without  exciting  any  suspicion,  his  keeper 
having  no  doubt  that  he  should  find  him  in  the  garden.  At  the 
bottom  was  a  door,  which  he  hastily  bolted  to  prevent  the  second 
turnkey  from  giving  the  alarm  to  his  companion.  Successful 
thus  far,  he  knocked  at  the  gate  which  led  out  of  the  castle.  It 
was  opened,  and,  with  an  appearance  of  much  eagerness,  he  asked 
for  the  abbe,  and  was  answered  that  the  sentinel  had  not  seen  him. 


294  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

"Our  priest  has  been  waiting  for  him  in  the  garden  more  than  two 
hours"  exclaimed  Latude;  "I  have  been  running  after  him  in  all 
directions  to  no  purpose ;  but,  egad,  he  shall  pay  me  for  my  run- 
ning!" He  was  allowed  to  pass ;  he  repeated  the  same  inquiry  to 
the  three  other  sentinels,  received  similar  answers, and  at  last  found 
himself  beyond  his  prison  walls.  Avoiding  as  much  as  possible 
the  high  road,  he  traversed  the  fields  and  vineyards,  and  finally 
reached  Paris,  where  he  shut  himself  up  in  a  retired  lodging. 

In  the  first  moments  of  recovered  liberty,  the  feelings  of  Latude 
were  those  of  unmixed  pleasure.  They  were,  however,  soon 
alloyed  by  doubt,  apprehension,  and  anxiety.  What  was  he  to  do  ? 
whither  was  he  to  fly  ?  To  remain  concealed  was  impossible,  and, 
even  had  it  been, possible,  would  have  been  only  another  kind  of 
captivity ;  to  fly  from  the  kingdom  was  nearly,  if  not  quite  as 
difficult ;  and,  besides,  he  was  reluctant  to  give  up  the  gayeties  of 
the  capital  and  his  prospects  of  advancement.  In  this  dilemma  he 
romantically  determined  to  throw  himself  upon  the  generosity  of 
his  persecutor.  "I  drew  up,"  says  he,  "a  memorial,  which  I 
addressed  to  the  king.  I  spoke  in  it  of  Madame  de  Pompadour 
with  respect,  and  on  my  fault  towards  her  with  repentance.  I 
entreated  she  would  be  satisfied  with  the  punishment  I  had  un- 
dergone; or,  if  fourteen  months'  imprisonment  had  not  expiated 
my  offence,  1  ventured  to  implore  the  clemency  of  her  I  had 
offended,  and  threw  myself  on  the  mercy  of  my  sovereign.  I 
concluded  my  memorial  by  naming  the  asylum  I  had  chosen." 
To  use  such  language  was,  indeed,  sounding »« the  very  base-string 
of  humility." 

This  appeal  of  the  sheep  to  the  wolf  was  answered  in  a  wolf- 
like  manner.  Latude  was  arrested  without  delay,  and  immured 
in  the  Bastile.  It  was  a  part  of  the  tactics  of  the  prison  to  inspire 
hopes,  for  the  purpose  of  adding  the  pain  of  disappointment  to 
the  other  sufferings  of  a  prisoner.  He  was  accordingly  told  that 
he  was  taken  into  custody  merely  to  ascertain  by  what  means  he 
had  escaped.  He  gave  a  candid  account  of  the  stratagem  to  which 
he  had  resorted ;  but,  instead  of  being  set  free,  as  he  had  foolishly 
expected,  he  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  and  subjected  to  the 
harshest  treatment. 

Again  his  compassionate  friend,  the  lieutenant  of  police,  came 
to  his  relief.  He  could  not  release  him  from  his  dungeon,  but  did 
all  that  lay  in  his  power  to  render  it  less  wearisome.  He  condoled 
with  him;  tried,  but  in  vain,  to  soften  his  tormentor;  and,  as  a 
.loophole  in  the  vault  admitted  light  enough  to  allow  of  reading, 
he  ordered  him  to  be  supplied  with  books,  pens,  ink,  and  paper. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  295 

For  six  months  these  resources  enabled  Latude  to  bear  his  fate 
with  some  degree  of  fortitude.  His  patience  was  then  exhausted, 
and  he  gave  way  to  rage  and  despair,  in  the  paroxysms  of  which 
he  vented  his  angry  feelings  in  epigrams  and  satirical  verses. 
One  of  those  compositions,  which  is  certainly  not  deficient  in  bitter- 
ness, he  was  imprudent  enough  to  write  on  the  margin  of  a  book 
which  had  been  lent  him — 

"  With  no  wit  or  allurements  to  tempt  man  to  sin, 

With  no  beauty  and  no  virgin  treasure  in  store, 
In  France  you  the  highest  of  lovers  may  win — 

For  a  proof  do  you  ask  ?     Then  behold  Pompadour." 

Latude  had  taken  the  precaution  to  write  this  in  a  feigned  hand; 
but  he  was  not  aware,  that,  whenever  a  prisoner  returned  a  book, 
every  page  of  it  was  carefully  examined.  The  gaolers  discovered 
the  epigram,  and  took  the  volume  to  John  Lebel,  the  governor, 
who  dutifully  hastened  to  lay  it  before  the  mistress  of  the  king. 
The  fury  of  the  marchioness  was  extreme.  Sending  for  M. 
Berryer,  she  exclaimed  to  him,  in  a  voice  half  smothered  with 
passion,  "  See  here !  learn  to  know  the  man  for  whom  you  are  so 
much  interested,  and  dare  again  to  solicit  my  clemency!" 

Eighteen  dreary  months  passed  away,  during  which  Latude  was 
strictly  confined  to  his  dungeon,  scarcely  hearing  the  sound  of  a 
human  voice.  At  last  M.  Berryer  took  upon  himself  the  responsi- 
bility of  removing  him  to  a  better  apartment,  and  even  allowing 
him  to  have  the  attendance  of  a  servant.  A  young  man,  named 
Cochar,  was  found  willing  to  undertake  the  monotonous  and  soul- 
depressing  task  of  being  domestic  to  a  prisoner.  He  was  gentle 
and  sympathizing,  and  in  so  far  was  qualified  for  his  office ;  but  he 
had  miscalculated  his  own  strength,  and  the  weight  of  the  burden 
which  he  was  to  bear.  He  drooped,  and  in  a  short  time  he  was 
stretched  on  the  bed  of  mortal  sickness.  Fresh  air  and  liberty 
might  have  saved  him.  Those,  however,  he  could  not  obtain; 
for  it  was  a  rule  that  the  fate  of  any  one  who  entered  into  the 
service  of  a  prisoner  became  linked  with  that  of  his  master,  and 
that  he  must  not  expect  to  quit  the  Bastile  till  his  employer  was 
set  at  large.  It  was  not  till  Cochar  was  expiring,  that  the  gaolers 
would  so  much  as  consent  to  remove  him  from  the  chamber  of 
Latude.  Within  three  months  from  his  entrance  into  the  Bastile, 
he  ceased  to  exist. 

Latude  was  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  the  poor  youth,  who 
had  always  endeavoured  to  comfort  him,  as  long  as  he  had  spirits 
to  do  so.  To  mitigate  his  grief,  M.  Berryer  obtained  for  him  the 
society  of  a  fellow-captive,  who  could  scarcely  fail  to  have  a  perfect 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

communion  of  feeling  with  him.  This  new  associate,  D'Alegre 
by  name,  was  about  his  own  age,  full  of  activity,  spirit,  and 
talent,  and  had  committed  the  irremissible  crime  of  offending  the 
Marchioness  de  Pompadour.  Taking  it  for  granted  that  she  was 
reclaimable,  though  on  what  ground  he  did  so  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  discover,  he  had  written  to  her  a  letter,  in  which  he  ap- 
prized her  of  the  public  hatred,  and  pointed  out  the  means  by 
which  he  thought  she  might  remove  it,  and  become  an  object  of 
affection.  For  giving  this  advice,  he  had  already  spent  three 
years  within  the  walls  of  the  Bastile.  Yet  his  woes  were  now 
only  beginning.  The  unfortunate  D'Alegre  had  ample  cause  to 
lament  his  having  forgotten  the  scriptural  injunction,  not  to  cast 
pearls  before  swine. 

M.  Berryer  took  the  same  warm  interest  in  D'Alegre  as  in 
Latude.  He  was  indefatigable  in  his  exertions  to  obtain  their 
pardon,  and  for  a  while  he  flattered  himself  that  he  should  suc- 
ceed. At  last,  wearied  by  his  importunity,  the  marchioness  vowed 
that  her  vengeance  should  be  eternal,  and  she  commanded  him 
never  again  to  mention  their  names.  He  was,  therefore,  obliged 
to  communicate  to  them  the  melancholy  tidings,  that  their  chains 
could  be  broken  only  by  her  disgrace  or  death. 

D'Alegre  was  almost  overwhelmed  by  the  first  shock  of  this 
intelligence ;  it  inspired  Latude,  on  the  contrary,  with  a  sort  of 
insane  energy,  and  his  mind  immediately  began  to  revolve  pro- 
jects of  escape.  The  very  idea  of  escaping  would  seem  to  be 
indicative  of  madness ;  egress  through  the  gates,  tenfold  guarded 
as  they  were,  was  utterly  impossible,  and  to  ascend  to  the  summit 
of  the  lofty  tower,  which  must  be  done  through  the  grated  chim- 
ney, then  to  descend  from  the  dizzy  height  into  the  ditch,  and, 
lastly,  to  break  through  or  climb  the  outward  wall,  appeared  to 
be  equally  impracticable.  Yet,  with  no  apparent  means  of  ac- 
complishing his  purpose,  Latude  firmly  made  up  his  mind  to  try 
the  latter  plan.  He  had  two  things  in  his  favour,  time  and  per- 
severance, and  their  sovereign  efficacy  has  often  been  proved. 

When  Latude  mentioned  to  him  his  scheme,  D'Alegre  consi- 
dered it  as  little  better  than  the  ravings  of  delirium.  Latude, 
however,  continued  to  meditate  deeply  upon  it,  though  in  silence. 
The  first  step  towards  the  execution  of  it,  without  the  success  of 
which  no  other  could  be  taken,  was  to  find  a  hiding-place  for 
the  tools  and  materials  which  must  be  employed.  From  his  being 
unable  to  hear  any  of  the  movements  of  the  prisoner  in  the  cham- 
ber below,  Latude  concluded  that  there  was  a  space  between  the 
floor  of  his  room  and  the  ceiling  of  his  neighbour's,  and  he  imme- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

diately  set  himself  to  ascertain  whether  this  was  the  fact.  As  he 
was  returning  with  D'Alegre  from  mass,  he  contrived  that  his 
fellow-prisoner  should  drop  his  tooth-pick-to  the  bottom  of  the 
stairs,  and  request  the  turnkey  to  pick  it  up.  While  the  turnkey 
was  descending,  Latude  looked  into  the  under  chamber,  and  esti- 
mated its  height  at  about  ten  feet  and  a  half.  He  then  counted 
the  number  of  stairs  between  the  two  rooms,  measured  one  of 
them,  and  found,  to  his  infinite  delight,  that  there  must  be  a  va- 
cancy of  five  feet  and  a  half  between  the  bottom  of  the  one  room 
and  the  top  of  the  other. 

As  soon  as  they  were  locked  in,  Latude  embraced  D'Alegre, 
and  exclaimed  that,  with  patience  and  courage,  they  might  be 
saved,  now  that  they  had  a  spot  where  they  could  conceal  their 
ropes  and  materials.  At  the  mention  of  ropes  D'Alegre  thought 
that  his  companion's  wits  were  wandering,  and  when  he  heard 
him  assert,  that  he  had  more  than  a  thousand  feet  of  rope  in  his 
trunk,  he  felt  sure  that  the  assertion  was  prompted  by  madness, 
"What!"  said  Latude,  "have  I  not  a  vast  quantity  of  linen* — 
thirteen  dozen  and  a  half  of  shirts — many  napkins,  stockings, 
nightcaps,  and  other  articles  ?  Will  not  these  supply  us  ?  We 
will  unravel  them,  and  we  shall  have  abundance  of  rope." 

D'Alegre  began  to  have  a  gleam  of  hope,  but  he  still  started 
numerous  difficulties,  among  which  were  the  want  of  wood  for 
ladders,  and  of  tools  to  make  them,  and  to  wrench  the  iron  grat- 
ings from  the  chimney.  Latude  silenced  him  by  replying,  "My 
friend,  it  is  genius  which  creates,  and  we  have  that  which  despair 
supplies.  It  will  direct  our  hands;  and  once  more  I  tell  you,  we 
shall  be  saved." 

Their  first  essay  in  tool-making  was  to  grind  down  to  an  edge 
on  the  tiled  floor,  two  iron  hooks,  taken  from  a  folding  table ;  with 
these  they  meant  to  remove  the  chimney  gratings.  The  next 
was  to  convert  a  part  of  the  steel  of  their  tinder  box  into  a  knife, 
with  which  they  made  handles  for  the  hooks.  The  hooks  were 
immediately  applied  to  raise  the  tiles,  in  order  to  find  whether 
there  was  really  a  cavity  beneath.  After  six  hours'  toil,  the  pri- 
soners found  that  there  was  an  empty  space  of  about  four  feet, 
and  having  gained  this  satisfactory  knowledge,  they  carefully 
replaced  the  floor  of  the  cell.  The  threads  of  two  shirts  were 
then  drawn  out,  one  by  one,  tied  together,  wound  into  small  balls, 

*  This  seems  to  be  a  quantity  of  liflen  so  enormous  as  to  stagger  belief.  But 
Latude  is  probably  correct  in  his  assertion.  Jn  some  of  the  French  provinces, 
families  have  an  immense  stock  of  linen;  and  it  is  necessary  that  they  should, 
as  the -operation  of  washing  is  not  performed  more  than  twice  or  thrice  a  year. 


298  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

and,  subsequently  formed  into  two  larger  balls,  each  composed  of 
fifty  threads,  sixty  feet  in  length.  These  were  ultimately  twisted 
into  a  rope,  from  which  was  made  a  ladder  of  twenty  feet,  in- 
tended to  support  the  captives,  while  they  extracted  the  bars  by 
which  the  chimney  was  closed. 

The  removal  of  the  bars  was  a  work  of  horrible  labour.  Cramped 
into  the  most  painful  postures,  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  work 
more  than  an  hour  at  a  stretch,  and  their  hands  were  always 
covered  with  blood.  The  mortar  was  nearly  as  hard  as  iron,  they 
had  no  means  of  softening  it  but  by  blowing  water  on  it  from  their 
mouths,  and  they  thought  themselves  lucky  when  they  could  clear 
away  as  much  as  an  eighth  of  an  inch  in  the  course  of  a  night. 
As  fast  as  the  bars  were  extracted  they  replaced  them,  that  their 
operations  might  not  be  betrayed.  Six  months'  unremitting  toil 
was  bestowed  upon  this  single  object. 

Having  opened  the  passage  up  the  chimney,  they  proceeded  to 
construct  their  ladders.  Their  fuel,  which  was  in  logs  of  about 
eighteen  or  twenty  inches  long,  supplied  the  rounds  for  the  rope 
ladder,  by  which  they  were  to  descend  from  the  tower;  and  the 
whole  of  that  by  which  they  were  to  scale  the  outer  wall.  More 
tools  being  required  to  cut  the  wood,  Latude  converted  an  iron 
candlestick  into  a  saw,  by  notching  it  with  the  remaining  half  of 
the  steel  which  belonged  to  the  tinder-box.  To  this  implement 
he  afterwards  added  others.  They  then  set  to  work  on  their 
wooden  ladder,  which  it  was  necessary  to  make  of  the  length  of 
twenty  or  five-and-twenty  feet.  It  had  only  one  upright,  three 
inches  in  diameter,  through  which  the  rounds  passed,  each  round 
projecting  six  inches  on  either  side :  the  pieces  of  which  it  con- 
sisted, were  joined  by  mortises  and  tenons,  and  each  joint  was 
fastened  by  two  pegs,  to  keep  them  perpendicular.  As  fast  as 
the  pieces  were  finished,  the  rounds  were  tied  to  them  with  a 
string,  that  no  mistake  might  occur  when  they  were  put  together 
in  the  dark.  They  were  then  carefully  hidden  under  the  floor. 

As  in  case  of  the  prison  spies  chancing  to  overhear  them  talk- 
ing about  their  employment,  it  was  of  consequence  to  prevent  their 
enemies  from  understanding  what  was  said,  they  invented  a  voca- 
bulary of  names  for  all  the  tools  and  the  portions  of  the  apparatus. 
For  instance,  the  saw  was  the  monkey,  the  reel  Anubis,  the  hooks 
Tubal  Cain,  the  wooden  ladder  Jacob,  the  rounds  sheep,  the  ropes 
doves,  a  ball  of  thread  the  little  brother,  and  the  knife  the  puppy 
dog ;  the  hole  in  which  they  concealed  them  was  christened  Po- 
lyphemus. 

It  now  remained  for  them  to  make  their  principal  rope  ladder. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  299 

This  was  an  arduous  and  almost  endless  task,  as  it  was  more  than 
one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  long1,  and,  consequently,  double  that 
length  of  rope  was  wanted.  "  We  began,"  says  Latude,  "  by 
unraveling  all  our  linen,  shirts,  towels,  nightcaps,  stockings, 
drawers,  pocket-handkerchiefs, — everything  which  could  supply 
thread  or  silk.  When  we  had  made  a  ball,  we  hid  it  in  Poly- 
phemus; and  when  we  had  a  sufficient  quantity,  we  employed  a 
whole  night  in  twisting  it  into  a  rope,  and  I  defy  the  most  skillful 
rope  maker  to  have  done  it  better. 

There  was  still  a  pressing  necessity  for  another  enormous  quan- 
tity of  rope.  Along  the  upper  part  of  the  outside  of  the  Bastile 
ran  a  kind  of  cornice,  which  stood  out  three  or  four  feet  beyond 
the  wall.  The  effect  of  this  would  be,  to  make  the  ladder  hang 
loosely  in  the  air,  and  vibrate  in  such  a  terrific  manner,  that  there 
would  be  great  danger  of  the  captive  who  led  the  way  being  pre- 
cipitated headlong  to  the  ground.  To  avert  this  peril,  they  made 
a  second  rope,  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long,  to  be  tied  round 
the  person  first  descending,  and  passed  gradually  through  a  sort 
of  block  fixed  above,  in  order  to  steady  him.  Shorter  ropes  were 
also  provided,  to  fasten  the  ladder  to  a  cannon,  and  for  any  other 
occasion  that  might  occur.  On  measuring  the  whole  of  their 
manufacture,  they  found  that  it  extended  to  more  than  fourteen 
hundred  feet.  Two  hundred  and  eight  rounds  were  required  for 
the  ladders,  and,  lest  their  knocking  against  the  wall  should  give 
the  alarm,  they  covered  them  with  the  linings  of  their  morning 
gowns,  waistcoats,  and  under  waistcoats.  These  last  preparations 
for  flight  occupied  eighteen  months. 

It  had  originally  been  their  intention,  after  having  reached  the 
ditch,  to  climb  the  parapet,  and  get  into  the  governor's  garden, 
and  from  thence  descend  into  the  moat  at  the  gate  of  St.  Antoine. 
On  consideration,  however,  this  plan  was  abandoned,  because  in 
this  part  they  would  be  more  exposed  than  elsewhere  to  be  detected 
by  the  sentinels.  It  was,  therefore,  deemed  advisable,  though  the 
labour  would  be  greatly  increased,  to  break  a  way  through  the 
wall  which  divided  the  ditch  of  the  Bastile  from  that  of  the  St. 
Antoine  gate.  Latude  was  of  opinion  that  the  mortar  of  the  wall 
on  this  side,  having  been  weakened  by  frequent  floods,  might  be 
removed  with  comparative  ease.  Two  bars  of  the  chimney  were 
to  be  used  as  levers  to  raise  the  stones,  and  an  auger,  to  make 
holes  for  the  insertion  of  the  bars,  was  fabricated  out  of  a  screw 
from  one  of  the  bedsteads,  to  which  a  wooden  cross  handle  was 
added. 

All  was  now  prepared  for  their  flight,  and  they  had  only  to 


300  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


decide  upon  the  day  for  attempting  their  hazardous  enterprise. 
The  25th  of  February,  1756,  was  the  day  which  they  chose.  A 
portmanteau  was  filled  with  a  change  of  clothes,  the  rounds  were 
fastened  into  the  rope  ladder,  the  wooden  ladder  was  got  ready, 
the  two  crowbars  were  put  into  cases  to  prevent  them  from  clang- 
ing, and  a  bottle  of  brandy  was  prudently  added  to  their  baggage, 
to  hearten  them  while  they  worked  in  the  water — for  the  Seine 
had  overflowed,  and  at  that  moment  there  was  from  four  to  five 
feet  water  in  the  moat  of  the  Bastile,  and  ice  was  floating  upon  it. 

Supper  being  over,  and  the  turnkey  having  locked  them  in  for 
the  night,  the  captives,  doubtless  with  throbbing  hearts,  began 
their  operations.  Latude  was  the  first  to  ascend  the  chimney. 
"  I  had  the  rheumatism  in  my  left  arm,"  says  he,  "but  I  thought 
little  of  the  pain,  for  I  soon  experienced  one  more  severe."  Be- 
fore he  reached  the  top,  his  knees  and  elbows  were  so  excoriated, 
that  the  blood  ran  down  from  them.  When  he  arrived  at  the 
summit,  he  let  down  a  rope,  by  means  of  which  he  successively 
drew  up  the  portmanteau,  the  ladders,  and  the  other  articles.  The 
end  of  the  rope  ladder  he  allowed  to  hang  down,  and  the  upper 
part  he  fastened  across  the  funnel  with  a  large  wooden  peg. 
D'Alegre  was  thus  enabled  to  mount  with  less  difficulty  than  his 
predecessor  had  experienced. 

At  last  they  breathed  the  free  air  of  heaven  on  the  platform  of 
the  Bastile.  As  the  du  Tresor  tower  appeared  to  be  the  most 
favourable  for  their  descent,  they  carried  their  apparatus  thither. 
One  end  of  the  rope  ladder  was  made  fast  to  a  cannon,  and  it  was 
gently  let  down.  The  safety  rope  was  next  passed  through  a 
firmly  fixed  block,  and  it  was  tied  securely  round  the  body  of 
Latude.  The  daring  adventurer  now  commenced  his  fearful  de- 
scent of  more  than  fifty  yards ;  D'Alegre  meanwhile  slowly  letting 
out  the  rope.  It  was  well  that  they  had  taken  this  precaution ; 
for,  at  every  step  that  he  took,  Latude  swung  so  violently  in  the 
air  that  it  is  probable  he  would  have  lost  his  hold,  had  not  the 
safety  rope  given  him  confidence.  In  a  few  moments,  which  how- 
ever must  have  seemed  hours,  he  reached  the  ditch  unhurt.  The 
portmanteau  and  the  other  effects  were  then  lowered  to  him,  and 
he  placed  them  on  a  spot  to  which  the  water  had  not  risen. 
D'Alegre  himself  followed ;  and,  as  Latude  applied  all  his  strength 
to  steady  the  ladder,  the  descent  of  his  companion  was  effected 
with  less  annoyance  and  hazard  than  his  own  had  been.  That 
regret,  at  being  unable  to  carry  away  their  ladder  and  implements, 
should  have  found  a  place  among  the  feelings  by  which  they  were 
agitated,  may  at  the  first  glance  seem  strange,  but  was  certainly 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  301 

not  unnatural ;  articles  on  which  they  had  bestowed  such  perse- 
vering toil,  which  had  proved  the  instruments  of  their  deliverance, 
and  were  also  the  trophies  of  their  triumph,  they  must  have  re- 
garded with  something  like  affection. 

As  they  heard  a  sentinel  pacing  along  at  the  distance  of  ten 
yards,  they  were  obliged  finally  to  relinquish  the  scheme  of  climb- 
ing the  parapet,  which  they  had  still  cherished  a  hope  of  carrying 
into  execution.  There  was,  therefore,  no  resource  but  to  break  a 
hole  through  the  wall.  Accordingly  they  crossed  the  ditch  of 
the  Bastile,  to  the  spot  where  the  wall  separated  it  from  that  of 
the  St.  Antoine  gate.  Unluckily,  the  ditch  had  been  deepened 
here,  and  the  water,  on  which  ice  was  floating,  was  up  to  their 
arm-pits.  They  nevertheless,  set  to  work  with  a  vigour  which 
can  be  inspired  only  by  circumstances  like  those  under  which 
they  were  placed.  Scarcely  had  they  begun  when,  about  twelve 
feet  above  their  heads,  they  saw  light  cast  upon  them  from  the 
lantern  which  was  carried  by  a  patrol  major;  they  were  compelled 
instantly  to  put  their  heads  under  water,  and  this  they  had  to  do 
several  times  in  the  course  of  the  night.  The  wall  at  which  they 
were  working  had  a  thickness  of  a  yard  and  a  half;  so  that,  al- 
though they  plied  their  crowbars  without  intermission,  they  were 
nine  mortal  hours  in  making  a  hole  of  sufficient  size  for  them  to 
creep  through.  Their  task  was  ultimately  achieved,  they  passed 
through  the  aperture,  and  were  now  beyond  the  walls  of  their 
prison.  But  even  at  this  moment  of  exultation,  they  had  a  nar- 
row escape  from  perishing.  In  their  way  to  the  road  by  which 
they  were  to  go,  there  was  an  aqueduct ;  it  was  not  more  than 
six  feet  wide,  but  it  had  ten  feet  of  water  and  two  feet  of  mud. 
Into  this  they  stumbled.  Fortunately,  Latude  did  not  lose  his 
upright  position ;  having  shaken  off  his  companion,  who  had 
mechanically  grasped  him,  he  scrambled  up  the  bank,  and  then 
drew  out  D'Alegre,  by  the  hair  of  his  head. 

The  clock  struck  five  as  they  entered  the  high  road.  After 
having  joyously  clasped  each  other  in  a  long  and  close  embrace, 
they  dropped  on  their  knees,  and  poured  forth  fervent  thanks  to 
the  Divine  Being,  who  had  so  miraculously  aided  them  in  their 
dangerous  undertaking.  In  consequence  of  the  evaporation  which 
was  taking  place,  they  now  began  to  feel  more  acutely  than  when 
they  were  in  the  water  the  effects  of  their  immersion  ;  their  whole 
frame  was  rapidly  becoming  rigid.  They,  therefore,  drew  a 
change  of  clothes  from  the  portmanteau ;  but  they  were  so  much 
benumbed  and  exhausted,  that  neither  of  them  could  dress  with- 
out being  assisted  by  his  friend.  When  they  were  somewhat 


302  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


recovered,  they  took  a  hackney-coach,  and  eventually  found  shel- 
ter in  the  house  of  a  kind-hearted  tailor,  a  native  of  Languedoc, 
who  was  known  to  Latude. 

To  gain  strength  after  their  toils,  as  well  as  to  let  the  hue  and  cry 
die  away,  the  friends  remained  nearly  a  month  in  concealment. 
It  having  been  settled  between  them  that,  in  order  to  avoid  being 
both  caught  at  once,  they  should  quit  the  country  separately, 
D'Alegre,  in  the  disguise  of  a  peasant,  set  out  on  his  journey  to 
Brussels.  He  reached  that  city  in  safety,  and  informed  Latude 
of  his  success.  Furnished  with  a  parish  register  of  his  host,  who 
was  nearly  of  his  own  age,  and  with  some  old  papers  relative  to 
a  lawsuit,  and  dressed  as  a  servant,  Latude  departed.  He  went 
on  foot  a  few  leagues  from  Paris,  and  then  took  the  diligence  for 
Valenciennes.  He  was  several  times  stopped,  searched,  and 
questioned,  and,  on  one  occasion,  was  in  imminent  danger  of 
being  detected.  By  dint,  however,  of  sticking  to  his  story,  that 
he  was  carrying  law  papers  to  his  master's  brother  at  Amsterdam, 
he  got  safely  to  Valenciennes,  at  which  town  he  removed  into  the 
stage  for  Brussels.  He  was  walking  when  they  reached  the 
boundary  post  which  marks  the  frontier  line  of  France  and  the 
Netherlands.  "  My  feelings,"  says  he,  "  got  the  better  of  my  pru- 
dence; I  threw  myself  on  the  ground,  and  kissed  it  with  trans- 
port. At  length,  thought  I,  I  can  breathe  without  fear!  My 
companions,  with  astonishment,  demanded  the  cause  of  this  ex- 
travagance. I  pretended  that,  just  at  that  very  moment,  in  a  pre- 
ceding year,  I  had  escaped  a  great  danger,  and  that  I  always 
expressed  my  gratitude  to  Providence  by  a  similar  prostration 
when  the  day  came  round." 

Latude  had  appointed  D'Alegre  to  meet  him  at  the  Hotel  de 
Coffi, in  Brussels.  Thither  he  went  immediately  on  his  arrival; 
but  there  disappointment  and  sorrow  awaited  him.  The  landlord 
at  first  denied  any  knowledge  of  D'Alegre,  and,  when  further 
pressed  he  hesitated,  and  became  extremely  embarrassed.  This 
was  enough  to  convince  the  inquirer  that  his  friend  had  been 
seized ;  and  the  conviction  was  strengthened,  by  his  having  heard 
nothing  from  him,  though  D'Alegre  knew  the  moment  when  his 
companion  would  reach  Brussels.  As  his  friend  could  be  arrested 
on  the  Austrian  territory,  it  was  obvious  that  Latude  could  not 
remain  in  it  without  danger ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart,  he  resolved 
to  fly  instantly  from  this  inhospitable  soil.  He  secured  a  place  in 
the  canal  boat,  which  was  that  night  to  proceed  to  Antwerp.  In 
the  course  of  the  voyage,  he  learned  the  fatal  truth  from  a  fellow- 
passenger.  He  was  told,  that  one  of  the  two  prisoners,  escaped 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  303 

from  the  Bastile,  had  arrived  at  the  Hotel  de  Coffi,  had  been  ap- 
prehended by  a  police  officer,  and  had  been  ultimately  sent  under 
a  strong  escort  to  Lille,  and  there  delivered  into  the  custody  of  a 
French  exempt;  and,  moreover,  that  all  this  was  kept  as  secret 
as  possible,  in  order  not  to  alarm  the  other  fugitive,  the  search 
after  whom  was  carried  on  with  such  activity  that  he  must  ine- 
vitably fall  into  the  hands  of  his  pursuers. 

Believing  that  if  he  went  on  immediately  to  Amsterdam  he 
would  find  there  an  officer  of  the  police  waiting  to  seize  him,  he 
directed  his  steps  to  Bergen-op-Zoom.  But  now  another  trouble 
fell  upon  him.  He  had  nearly  exhausted  his  scanty  stock  of 
money,  and  had  not  found  at  Brussels  a  remittance  which  he  ex- 
pected from  his  father:  he  afterwards  learned  that  it  had  been 
intercepted  by  the  French  exempt,  who  was  employed  to  trace 
him.  While  he  remained  at  Bergen-op-Zoom,  which  was  till  he 
supposed  that  his  enemies  would  have  lost  the  hope  of  his  coming 
to  Amsterdam,  he  wrote  to  his  father  for  a  supply.  But  a  con- 
siderable time  must  elapse  before  he  could  receive  it,  and,  in  the 
meanwhile,  he  would  run  the  risk  of  starving.  When  he  had  paid 
the  rent  of  his  wretched  garret  at  Bergen-op-Zoom,  and  the  fare  of 
the  boat  which  was  to  convey  him  to  Amsterdam,  a  few  shillings 
was  all  that  was  left.  In  this  state  of  penury,  unwilling  to  beg, 
he  tried  whether  life  could  be  supported  by  grass  and  wild  herbs 
alone.  The  experiment  failed,  for  his  stomach  rejected  the  loath- 
some food.  To  render  his  herbs  less  disgusting,  he  bought  four 
pounds  of  a  black  and  clay-like  rye  bread,  to  eat  with  them. 

Hoping  that  by  this  time  the  bloodhounds  of  the  marchioness 
had  desisted  from  seeking  him  in  the  Dutch  capital,  Latude  ven- 
tured to  embark.  To  hide  his  poverty,  he  kept  aloof  as  much  as 
possible  from  his  fellow-voyagers.  He  was,  however,  not  un- 
observed. There  was  in  the  boat  one  John  Teerhorst,  who  kept 
a  sort  of  humble  public-house,  in  a  cellar  at  Amsterdam.  Under 
his  unprepossessing  exterior,  he  had  a  heart  as  kind  as  ever  beat 
in  a  human  breast.  Chancing  to  catch  a  sight  of  Latude's  sorry 
fare,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming,  "Good  God !  what  an  extraor- 
dinary dinner  you  are  making !  You  seem  to  have  more  appetite 
than  money !"  Latude  frankly  owned  that  it  was  so.  The  good- 
natured  Dutchman  immediately  led  him  to  his  own  table.  "No 
compliments,  Mr.  Frenchman,"  said  he;  "seat  yourself  there,  and 
eat  and  drink  with  me."  On  further  acquaintance  with  him, 
Latude  discovered  that  his  host  was  not  only  a  truly  benevolent 
man,  but  that  he  had  also  the  rare  talent  of  conferring  favours  with 


304  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

such  delicacy  as  not  to  wound  the  feelings  of  the  person  whom  he 
obliged. 

When  they  reached  Amsterdam,  Teerhorst  offered  to  introduce 
him  to  a  Frenchman  named  Martin,  who,  judging  from  himself,  he 
doubted  not  would  be  delighted  to  serve  him.  Latude,  however, 
found  that  his  fellow-countryman  was  one  of  the  most  soulless 
animals  whom  he  had  ever  seen ;  a  being  who  cared  only  for  self. 
He  was  better  fitted  to  be  a  turnkey  of  the  Bastile  than  the  con- 
soler of  one  of  its  victims.  The  tears  and  low  spirits  of  his  guest 
disclosed  to  the  Dutchman  the  reception  which  Latude  had  met 
with,  and  the  forebodings  that  oppressed  him.  Taking  his  hand, 
he  said,  "  Do  not  weep — I  will  never  abandon  you :  I  am  not  rich, 
it  is  true,  but  my  heart  is  good ;  we  will  do  the  best  we  can  for 
you,  and  you  will  be  satisfied." 

Teerhorst' s  underground  habitation  was  divided  by  a  partition 
into  two  rooms ;  one  of  which  served  as  kitchen,  while  the  other 
was  at  once  shop,  sitting-room,  and  bed-room.  Though  the  narrow 
tenement  was  already  crowded,  Teerhorst  contrived  to  make  a 
sleeping  place  for  Latude  in  a  large  closet,  and  he  and  his  wife 
cheerfully  gave  him  a  matress  from  their  own  bed.  Not  content 
with  feeding  and  lodging  the  fugitive,  Teerhorst  strove  to  divert 
him  from  melancholy  thoughts,  by  taking  him  wherever  there 
was  anything  that  could  amuse  him.  His  charitable  efforts  were 
but  partially  successful;  for  the  mind  of  Latude  was  deeply 
begloomed  by  his  own  precarious  situation,  and  still  more  by  his 
incessantly  brooding  over  and  regretting  the  fate  of  D'Alegre. 

Though  Latude  had  found  no  sympathy  in  Martin,  he  was 
more  fortunate  in  another  of  his  countrymen,  Louis  Clergue,  who 
was  a  native  of  Martagnac,  where  the  fugitive  was  born.  Rich 
and  compassionate,  Clergue  gave  him  a  room  in  his  house,  made 
him  a  constant  partaker  of  his  table,  and  furnished  him  with 
clothes  and  linen.  The  linen  was  not  the  least  acceptable  of 
these  gifts ;  for  Latude  had  been  forty  days  without  a  change  of 
it.  Clergue  also  assembled  his  friends,  to  hear  the  story  of  his 
guest,  and  to  consult  what  could  be  done  for  him.  They  were  all 
of  opinion  that  Latude  had  nothing  to  fear,  as  neither  the  states- 
general  nor  the  people  of  Amsterdam  would  ever  consent  to  deliver 
up  a  persecuted  stranger,  who  had  confidingly  thrown  himself  on 
their  protection.  Even  Latude  himself  began  to  believe  that  at 
last  he  was  safe. 

The  unfortunate  man  was  soon  woefully  undeceived.  Not  for 
a  moment  had  his  pursuers  slackened  in  the  chase,  not  a  single 
precaution  had  they  neglected  that  could  lead  to  success.  In  aid 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  305 

of  the  subaltern  agents,  the  French  ambassador  had  also  exerted 
himself.  By  representing  the  fugitive  as  a  desperate  malefactor, 
he  had  obtained  the  consent  of  the  States  to  arrest  him.  Calumny 
was  one  of  the  weapons  uniformly  employed  against  prisoners,  in 
order  to  insulate  them  from  their  fellow-creatures,  by  extinguishing 
pity.  But,  in  this  instance,  there  seems  reason  for  believing  that 
bribery,  was  an  auxiliary  to  calumny;  the  expense  of  following  up 
the  fugitives  was  no  less  than  9000/.  sterling — a  sum  for  which  it 
is  impossible  to  account,  without  supposing  that  much  of  it  was 
expended  in  bribes. 

Though  Latude  had  changed  his  name  and  the  address  to 
which  his  friends  were  to  direct  their  communications,  the  active 
agents  of  the  marchioness  had  succeeded  in  intercepting  all  his 
letters.  One  was  at  last  allowed  to  reach  him,  as  the  means  of 
effecting  his  ruin.  It  does  not  appear  whether  his  residing  in 
the  house  of  M.  Clergue  was  known  to  them ;  probably  it  was ; 
but,  if  it  were,  they  perhaps  thought  that  it  would  be  imprudent 
to  seize  him  there,  as  his  protector  might  proclaim  to  the  populace 
the  innocence  of  his  guest,  and  thus  excite  a  tumult.  A  letter 
from  Latude's  father,  containing  a  draft  on  a  banker,  was  there- 
fore forwarded  to  him.  Into  this  snare  he  fell.  As  he  was  pro- 
ceeding to  the  banker's,  the  Dutch  police  officers  pounced  upon 
him,  and  he  was  immediately  fettered  and  dragged  along.  The 
crowd  which  had  by  this  time  gathered,  was  told  that  he  was  a 
dangerous  criminal;  but,  as  the  numbers  nevertheless  continued 
to  increase,  the  brutal  officers,  who  were  armed  with  heavy  blud- 
geons, dealt  their  blows  liberally  on  all  sides,  to  clear  their  way 
to  the  town-hall.  One  of  these  blows  struck  the  prisoner  with 
such  violence,  on  the  nape  of  his  neck,  that  he  dropped  senseless 
to  the  ground. 

When  consciousness  returned,  he  was  lying  on  a  truss  of 
straw,  in  a  dungeon;  there  was  not  a  ray  of  light  visible,  not  a 
sound  to  be  heard.  He  seemed  to  be  cut  off  from  the  human 
race,  and  he  resigned  himself  wholly  to  despair.  His  tumultu- 
ous reflections  were  interrupted,  in  the  morning,  by  a  visit  from 
St.  Marc,  the  French  exempt,  who  had  pursued  him  from  Paris. 
This  brutal  caitiff  had  the  baseness  to  aggravate  his  sufferings  by 
an  awkward  attempt  at  irony.  "He  told  me,"  says  Latude,  "that 
I  ought  to  pronounce  the  name  of  the  Marchioness  de  Pompadour 
with  the  most  profound  respect ;  she  was  anxious  only  to  load  me 
with  favours ;  far  from  complaining,  I  ought  to  kiss  the  generous 
hand  that  struck  me,  every  blow  from  which  was  a  compliment 
and  an  obligation."  In  a  second  visit,  some  time  after,  the  exempt 
20 


306  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

brought  him  an  ounce  of  snuff,  which  he  strongly  recommended, 
but  which  Latude  did  not  use,  because  he  imagined,  and  not  un- 
reasonably, that  it  was  poisoned. 

Latude  remained  nine  days  in  this*  dungeon,  while  his  captors 
were  waiting  for  permission  to  carry  him  through  the  territory  of 
the  Empress  Maria  Theresa.  They  were  anxious  to  receive  it 
without  delay,  for  M.  Clergue  and  the  other  friends  of  the  pri- 
soner were  loudly  asserting  his  innocence,  and  the  citizens  began 
to  murmur  at  the  disgrace  which  was  cast  upon  their  country  by 
his  seizure  being  permitted.  The  permission  soon  came,  and  the 
myrmidons  of  the  marchioness  hastened  to  bear  off  their  prey. 

In  this  instance  the  Dutch  and  Austrian  governments  must 
bear  the  shame  of  having  been  ready  instruments  of  the  perse- 
cutors. It  is,  however,  doubtful  whether,  had  those  governments 
acted  otherwise,  the  fugitives  would  have  escaped.  To  effect 
their  purpose,  the  emissaries  of  the  Bastile  did  not  scruple  to 
violate  the  territory  of  foreign  powers.  In  1752,  a  M.  Berlin  de 
Fretaux  was  carried  off  from  England.  He  was  secretly  seized 
at  Marylebone,  put  on  board  ship  at  Gravesend,  and  conveyed  to 
the  Bastile,  where  he  died  after  having  been  confined  for  twenty- 
seven  years.  Even  foreign  subjects  were  not  safe.  The  pub- 
lisher of  a  Leyden  Gazette  having  printed  a  satire  on  Louis  XIV., 
he  was  kidnapped  in  Holland,  and  conveyed  to  the  rock  of  St. 
Michael,  on  the  Norman  coast,  and  shut  up  in  a  cage  till  he  died. 

At  two  in  the  morning,  on  the  9th  of  June,  1756,  the  gaolers 
of  Latude  came  to  remove  him.  Round  his  body  they  fastened 
a  strong  leathern  belt,  on  which  were  two  large  rings  fastened  by 
padlocks.  Through  these  rings  his  hands  were  passed ;  so  that 
his  arms  were  pinioned  down  to  his  sides,  without  the  power  of 
motion.  He  was  then  conveyed  to  a  boat,  into  the  foulest  corner 
of  which  he  was  thrown.  As  he  could  not  feed  himself,  the 
office  of  feeding  him  was  committed  to  two  men ;  they  were  so 
horribly  filthy  that  he  refused,  for  four-and-twenty  hours,  to  take 
nourishment  from  them.  Force  was  then  employed  to  make  him 
eat.  "They  brought  me,"  says  Latude,  "a  piece  of  beef  swim- 
ming in  gravy;  they  took  the  meat  in  their  hands,  and  thrust  it 
into  my  mouth*,  they  then  took  some  bread,  which  they  steeped 
in  the  grease,  and  made  me  swallow  it  in  a  similar  manner. 
During  this  disgusting  operation  one  of  these  ruffians  blew  his 
nose  with  his  fingers,  and,  without  wiping  them,  soaked  some 
bread,  and  approached  it  to  my  mouth.  I  turned  my  head  aside, 
but  it  was  too  late.  I  had  seen  these  preliminaries,  and  my  sto- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  307 

mach  revolted.  The  consequence  was,  a  long  and  severe  fit  of 
vomiting,  which  left  me  almost  without  strength  or  motion." 

The  mode  of  confinement  by  the  belt  was  absolute  torture  to 
the  prisoner.  At  length,  thanks  to  the  compassionate  interference 
of  a  servant  on  board,  who  declared  that,  if  no  one  else  would,  he 
himself  would  cut  it,  the  belt  was  removed,  and  Latude  was  in- 
dulged by  being  only  handcuffed  on  the  right  arm,  and  chained 
to  one  of  his  guards.  When  they  arrived  at  Lille,  St.  Marc 
halted  for  the  night  and  sent  the  prisoner  to  the  town  gaol,  where 
he  was  bolted  to  the  chain  of  a  deserter,  scarcely  nineteen,  who 
had  been  told  that  he  was  to  be  hanged  on  the  morrow.  The 
despairing  youth  spent  the  night  in  trying  to  convince  him  that 
he,  too,  would  be  hanged,  and  in  proposing  that  they  should  elude 
a  public  execution  by  strangling  themselves  with  their  shirts. 
For  the  remainder  of  the  journey  Latude,  with  his  legs  ironed, 
traveled  in  a  carriage  with  St.  Marc,  who  took  the  precaution  of 
carrying  pistols,  and  had  likewise  an  armed  servant  by  the  side 
of  the  vehicle,  whose  orders  were  to  shoot  the  captive  if  he  made 
the  slightest  motion. 

By  his  associates  at  the  Bastile,  St.  Marc  was  received  like 
some  victor  returning  from  the  scene  of  his  triumph.  They 
swarmed  round  him,  listened  with  greedy  ears  to  the  tale  of  his 
exertions  and  stratagems,  and  lavished  praises  and  attentions 
upon  him.  The  group  must  have  borne  no  very  distant  resem- 
blance to  fiends  exulting  over  a  lost  soul. 

Stripped,  and  reclothed  in  rags  which  were  dropping  to  pieces, 
his  hands  and  feet  heavily  ironed,  the  prisoner  was  thrown  into 
one  of  the  most  noisome  dungeons  of  the  fortress.  A  sprinkling 
of  straw  formed  his  bed ;  covering  it  had  none.  The  only  light 
and  air  which  penetrated  into  this  den  of  torment  came  through 
a  loop-hole,  which  narrowing  gradually  from  the  inside  to  the 
outside,  had  a  diameter  of  not  more  than  five  inches  at  the  fur- 
thest extremity.  This  loop-hole  was  secured  and  darkened  by  a 
fourfold  iron  grating,  so  ingeniously  contrived  that  the  bars  of  one 
network  covered  the  insterstices  of  another;  but  there  was  neither 
glass  nor  shutters  to  ward  oflf  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 
The  interior  extremity  of  this  aperture  reached  within  about  two 
feet  and  a  half  of  the  ground,  and  served  the  captive  for  a  chair 
and  a  table,  and  sometimes  he  rested  his  arms  and  his  elbows  on 
it  to  lighten  the  weight  of  his  fetters. 

Shut  out  from  all  communication  with  his  fellow-beings,  Latude 
found  some  amusement  in  the  society  of  the  rats  which  infested 
his  dungeon.  His  first  attempt  to  make  them  companionable 


308  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

was  tried  upon  a  single  rat,  which  in  three  days,  by  gently 
throwing  bits  of  bread  to  it,  he  rendered  so  tame  that  it  would 
take  food  from  his  hands.  The  animal  even  changed  its  abode, 
and  established  itself  in  another  hole  in  order  to  be  nearer  to 
him.  In  a  few  days  a  female  joined  the  first  comer.  At  the 
outset  she  was  timid ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  she  acquired 
boldness,  and  would  quarrel  and  fight  for  the  morsels  which  were 
given  by  the  prisoner. 

«« When  my  dinner  was  brought  in  (says  Latude)  I  called  my 
companions:  the  male  ran  to  me  directly;  the  female,  according 
to  custom,  came  slowly  and  timidly,  but  at  length  approached 
close  to  me,  and  ventured  to  take  what  I  offered  her  from  my 
hand.  Some  time  after,  a  third  appeared  who  was  much  less 
ceremonious  than  my  first  acquaintances.  After  his  second  visit, 
he  constituted  himself  one  of  the  family,  and  made  himself  so  per- 
fectly at  home,  that  he  resolved  to  introduce  his  comrades.  The 
next  day,  he  came,  accompanied  by  two  others,  who  in  the  course 
of  the  week  brought  five  more ;  and  thus,  in  less  than  a  fortnight, 
our  family  circle  consisted  of  ten  large  rats  and  myself.  I  gave  each 
of  them  names,  which  they  learned  to  distinguish.  When  I  called 
them  they  came  to  eat  with  me,  from  the  dish,  or  off  the  same 
plate ;  but  I  found  this  unpleasant,  and  was  soon  forced  to  find 
them  a  dish  for  themselves,  on  account  of  their  slovenly  habits. 
They  became  so  tame  that  they  allowed  me  to  scratch  their  necks, 
and  appeared  pleased  when  I  did ;  but  they  would  never  permit 
me  to  touch  them  on  the  back.  Sometimes  I  amused  myself  with 
making  them  play,  and  joining  in  their  gambols.  Occasionally  I 
threw  them  a  piece  of  meat  scalding  hot :  the  most  eager  ran  to 
seize  it,  burned  themselves,  cried  out,  and  left  it ;  while  the  less 
greedy,  who  had  waited  patiently,  took  it  when  it  was  cold,  and 
escaped  into  a  corner,  where  they  divided  their  prize  ;  sometimes 
I  made  them  jump  up.  by  holding  a  piece  of  bread  or  meat  sus- 
pended in  the  air."  In  the  course  of  the  year,  his  four-footed 
companions  increased  to  twenty-six.  Whenever  an  intruder  ap- 
peared he  met  with  a  hostile  reception  from  the  old  standers,  and 
had  to  fight  his  way  before  he  could  obtain  a  footing.  Latude 
endeavoured  to  familiarize  a  spider,  but  in  this  he  was  unsuccess- 
ful. 

Another  source  of  comfort  was  unexpectedly  opened  to  the 
solitary  captive.  Among  the  straw  which  was  brought  for  his 
bed,  he  found  a  piece  of  elder,  and  he  conceived  the  idea  of  con- 
verting it  into  a  sort  of  flageolet.  This,  however,  was  a  task  of 
no  easy  accomplishment,  for  his  hands  were  fettered,  and  he  had 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  309 

no  tools.  But  necessity  is  proverbially  inventive.  He  succeeded 
in  getting  off  the  buckle  which  fastened  the  waistband  of  his 
breeches,  and  bending  it  into  a  kind  of  chisel  by  means  of  his  leg 
irons  ;  and,  with  this  clumsy  instrument,  after  the  labour  of  many 
months,  he  contrived  to  form  a  rude  kind  of  musical  pipe.  It  was 

Erobably  much  inferior  to  a  child's  whistle,  but  his  delight  when 
e  had  completed  it  was  extreme ;  the  feeling  was  natural,  and  the 
sounds  must  have  been  absolute  harmony  to  his  ear. 

Though  his  flageolet  and  his  animal  companions  made  his  lonely 
hours  somewhat  less  burthensome,  and  at  moments  drew  his  at- 
tention wholly  from  maddening  thoughts,  the  longing  for  liberty 
would  perpetually  recur,  and  he  racked  his  mind  for  plans  to 
shake  off  his  chains.  The  thought  occurred  to  him,  that  if  he 
could  be  fortunate  enough  to  suggest  some  plan  which  would  be- 
nefit the  state,  it  might  be  repaid  by  the  gift  of  freedom.  At  that 
time  the  non-commissioned  military  officers  were  armed  only  with 
halberts,  which  could  be  of  no  use  but  in  close  engagement ;  La- 
tude  proposed  to  substitute  muskets  for  the  halberts,  and  thus  make 
effective  at  least  20,000  men.  But  how  was  he  to  communicate 
his  idea  to  the  king  and  the  ministers?  he  had  neither  pen,  ink, 
nor  paper,  and  strict  orders  had  been  given  that  he  should  be  de- 
barred from  the  use  of  them.  This  obstacle,  however,  he  got 
over.  For  paper  he  moulded  thin  tablets  of  bread,  six  inches 
square ;  for  pens  he  used  the  triangular  bones  out  of  a  carp's  belly ; 
for  ink  his  blood  was  substituted— -to  obtain  it  he  tied  round  a  fin- 
ger, some  threads  from  his  shirt,  and  punctured  the  end.  As  only 
a  few  drops  could  be  procured  in  this  way,  and  as  they  dried  up 
rapidly,  he  was  compelled  to  repeat  the  operation  so  often,  that 
his  fingers  were  covered  with  wounds,  and  enormously  swelled. 
The  necessity  of  frequent  punctures  he  ultimately  obviated,  by 
diluting  the  blood  with  water. 

When  the  memorial  was  finished,  there  was  yet  another  diffi- 
culty to  be  surmounted;  it  must  be  copied.  In  this  emergency, 
Latude  clamorously  demanded  to  see  the  major  of  the  Bastile.  To 
that  officer  he  declared  that,  being  convinced  he  had  not  long  to 
live,  he  wished  to  prepare  for  his  end  by  receiving  religious  as- 
sistance. The  confessor  of  the  prison  was  in  consequence  sent  to 
him,  was  astonished  and  delighted  by  the  memorial,  became  in- 
terested in  his  favour,  and  obtained  an  order  that  he  should  be 
supplied  with  materials  for  writing.  The  memorial  was  accord- 
ingly transcribed,  and  presented  to  the  king. 

The  suggestion  was  adopted  by  the  government ;  the  unfortunate 
prisoner  was,  however,  left  to  languish  unnoticed  in  his  dungeon. 


310  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


Again  he  tasked  his  faculties  for  a  project  which  might  benefit  at 
once  his  country  and  himself.  At  this  period  no  provision  was 
made  in  France  for  the  widows  of  those  who  fell  in  battle.  The 
King  of  Prussia  had  recently  set  the  example  of  granting  pensions ; 
and  Latude  deemed  it  worthy  of  being  imitated.  But,  knowing 
that  an  empty  treasury  would  be  pleaded  in  bar,  he  proposed  a 
trifling  addition  to  the  postage  of  letters,  which  he  calculated 
would  raise  an  ample  fund.  His  memorial  and  the  date  on  which 
it  was  founded,  were  forwarded  to  the  monarch  and  the  minis- 
ters. The  tax  was  soon  after  imposed,  and  nominally  for  the 
purpose  pointed  out  by  Latude ;  but  the  widows,  nevertheless, 
continued  to  be  destitute,  and  the  projector  unpitied. 

Foiled  in  all  his  efforts,  the  firmness  of  Latude  gave  way.  He 
had  been  pent  for  three  years  and  five  months  in  a  loathsome 
dungeon,  suffering  more  than  pen  can  describe.  Exposed  in  his 
horrible  fireless  and  windowless  abode  to  all  the  blasts  of  heaven, 
three  winters,  one  of  which  was  peculiarly  severe,  had  sorely  tor- 
tured his  frame.  The  cold,  the  keen  winds,  and  a  continual  de- 
fluxion  from  his  nostrils,  had  split  his  upper  lip,  and  destroyed  his 
front  teeth;  his  eyes  were  endangered  from  the  same  causes,  and 
from  frequent  weeping;  his  head  was  often  suddenly  affected  by  a 
sort  of  apoplectic  stroke  ;  and  his  limbs  were  racked  by  crarnp  and 
rheumatism.  Hope  was  extinct ;  intense  agony  of  mind  and  body 
rendered  existence  insufferable  ;  and  the  unhappy  victim  resolved 
to  throw  off  a  burden  which  he  could  no  longer  bear.  No  instru- 
ment of  destruction  being  within  reach,  he  tried  to  effect  his  pur- 
pose by  starving  himself;  and  for  a  hundred  and  thirty-three 
hours  he  obstinately  persisted  in  refusing  all  food.  At  last,  his 
gaolers  wrenched  open  his  mouth,  and  frustrated  his  design.  Still 
bent  on  dying,  he  contrived  to  obtain  and  secrete  a  fragment  of 
broken  glass,  with  which  he  opened  four  of  the  large  veins. 
During  the  night  he  bled  till  life  was  all  but  extinct.  Once  more, 
however,  he  was  snatched  from  the  grave,  and  he  now  sullenly 
resigned  himself  to  await  his  appointed  time. 

After  he  had  been  confined  a  considerable  time  longer,  a  fortu- 
nate overflowing  of  the  Seine  occasioned  his  removal.  The  turn- 
key complained  heavily  that  he  was  obliged  to  walk  through  the 
water  to  the  prisoner,  and  Latude  was  in  consequence  removed 
to  an  apartment  in  the  tower  of  La  Comte.  It  had  no  chimney, 
and  was  one  of  the  worst  rooms  in  the  tower,  but  it  was  a  paradise 
when  compared  with  the  pestiferous  hole  from  which  he  had 
emerged.  Yet,  so  strong  is  the  yearning  for  society,  that  glad- 
dened as  he  was  by  his  removal,  he  could  not  help  bitterly  regret- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  311 

ting  the  loss  of  his  sociable  rats.  As  a  substitute  for  them,  he 
tried  to  catch  some  of  the  pigeons  which  perched  on  the  window ; 
and,  by  means  of  a  noose,  formed  from  threads  drawn  out  of  his 
linen,  he  finally  succeeded  in  snaring  a  male  and  a  female.  "  I 
tried,"  says  he,  "  every  means  to  console  them  for  the  loss  of  li- 
berty ;  I  assisted  them  to  make  their  nest  and  feed  their  young; 
my  cares  and  attention  equaled  their  own.  They  seemed  sensi- 
ble of  this,  and  repaid  me  by  every  possible  mark  of  affection. 
As  soon  as  we  had  established  this  reciprocal  understanding,  I 
occupied  myself  entirely  with  them.  How  I  watched  their  actions, 
and  enjoyed  their  expressions  of  tenderness  !  I  lost  myself  en- 
tirely while  with  them,  and  in  my  dreams  continued  the  enjoy- 
ment." 

This  pleasure  was  too  great  to  be  lasting.  He  had  been  placed 
in  his  present  apartment  because  it  was  under  the  care  of  a 
brutal  turnkey  named  Daragon,  who  had  been  punished  for  La- 
tude's  former  escape,  and  cherished  a  rankling  feeling  of  revenge. 
It  was  Daragon  who  purchased  the  grain  for  the  pigeons,  and 
for  this  service  the  prisoner,  besides  the  large  profit  which  the 
turnkey  made,  gave  him  one  out  of  the  seven  bottles  of  wine  which 
was  his  weekly  allowance.  Daragon  now  insisted  on  having  four 
bottles,  without  which  he  would  purchase  no  more  grain.  It  was 
to  no  purpose  that  Latude  pleaded  that  the  wine  was  indispensably 
necessary  to  restore  his  health;  the  turnkey  was  deaf  to  reason. 
Latude  was  provoked  into  asperity ;  Daragon  rushed  out  in  a  rage ; 
and  in  a  short  time  he  returned,  pretending  that  he  had  an  order 
from  the  governor  to  kill  the  pigeons.  "  My  despair  at  this," 
says  Latude,  "exceedecball  bounds,  and  absolutely  unsettled  my 
reason;  I  could  willingly  have  sacrificed  my  life  to  satisfy  my  just 
vengeance  on  this  monster.  I  saw  him  make  a  motion  towards 
the  innocent  victims  of  my  misfortunes;  I  sprang  forwards  to  pre- 
vent him.  I  seized  them,  and,  in  my  agony,!  crushed  them  my- 
self. This  was  perhaps  the  most  miserable  moment  of  my  whole 
existence.  I  never  recall  the  memory  of  it  without  the  bitterest 
pangs.  I  remained  several  days  without  taking  any  nourishment ; 
grief  and  indignation  divided  my  soul;  my  sighs  were  impreca- 
tions, and  I  held  all  mankind  in  mortal  horror." 

Fortunately,  a  humane  and  generous  man,  the  Count  de  Jumil- 
hac,  was  soon  after  appointed  governor  of  the  Bastile.  He  com- 
passionated the  sufferings  of  Latude,  and  exerted  himself  to  relieve 
them.  He  obtained  for  him  an  interview  with  M.  de  Sartine, 
the  minister  of  police,  who  gave  him  leave  to  walk  for  two  hours 
daily  on  the  platform  of  the  Bastile,  and  promised  to  befriend  him. 


312  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


That  promise  he  soon  broke.  Hope  revived  in  the  breast  of  La- 
tude,  and  he  again  set  to  work  to  form  plans  for  the  good  of  the 
country.  Schemes  for  issuing  a  new  species  of  currency,  and  for 
establishing  public  granaries  in  all  the  principal  towns,  were 
among  the  first  fruits  of  his  meditations.  With  respect  to  the 
latter  project,  he  says,  "Nothing  could  be  more  simple  than  the 
mode  I  suggested  of  constructing  and  provisioning  these  maga- 
zines. It  consisted  in  a  slight  duty  upon  marriage,  which  all 
rich  people,  or  those  who  wished  to  appear  so,  would  have  paid 
with  eagerness,  as  I  had  the  address  to  found  it  upon  their  vanity." 
This  project  pleased  M.  de  Sartine  so  much,  that  he  wished  to 
have  the  merit  of  it  to  himself,  and,  by  means  of  a  third  person, 
he  sounded  Latude,  to  know  whether  he  would  relinquish  his 
claim  to  it,  on  having  a  small  pension  secured  to  him.  Latude 
gave  a  brief  but  peremptory  refusal,  and  M.  de  Sartine  was 
thenceforth  his  enemy.  All  letters  and  messages  to  him  remained 
unnoticed. 

While  he  was  one  day  walking  on  the  platform,  he  learned  the 
death  of  his  father.  The  sentinel  who  guarded  him  had  served 
under  his  father,  but  did  not  know  that  the  prisoner  was  the  son 
of  his  old  officer.  Latude  was  overwhelmed  by  this  fatal  intel- 
ligence, and  he  fainted  on  the  spot.  His  mother  still  lived;  but 
she,  too,  was  sinking  into  the  grave  from  grief.  It  was  in  vain 
that,  in  the  most  pathetic  language,  she  repeatedly  implored  the 
harlot  marchioness  to  have  mercy  on  the  captive.  Her  prayers 
might  have  moved  a  heart  of  flint,  but  they  had  no  effect  on  Ma- 
dame de  Pompadour.  But  the  horrors  of  imprisonment  were  not 
enough  to  be  inflicted  on  him ;  he  was  macte  the  victim  of  calumny, 
and  a  stain  was  fixed  upon  his  character.  To  get  rid  of  importu- 
nity in  his  behalf,  the  men  in  office  replied  to  his  advocates,  "Be- 
ware how  you  solicit  the  pardon  of  that  miscreant.  You  would 
shudder  if  you  knew  the  crimes  he  has  committed." 

Thus  goaded  almost  to  madness,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
he  was  eager  to  take  vengeance  on  his  persecutors.  Since  the 
heart  of  Madame  de  Pompadour  was  inaccessible  to  pity,  he  de- 
termined that  it  should  at  least  feel  the  stings  of  mortification  and 
rage.  His  plan  was,  to  draw  up  a  memorial,  exposing  her  cha- 
racter, and  to  address  it  to  La  Beaumelle,  who  had  himself  tasted 
the  rigours  of  the  Bastile.  "I  had  only,"  says  he,  "to  place  in 
trusty  hands  the  true  history  of  her  birth  and  infamous  life,  with 
all  the  particulars  of  which  I  was  well  acquainted;  in  depriving 
me  of  existence,  she  would  dread  my  dying  words,  and  even  from 
the  tomb  I  should  still  be  an  object  of  terror  to  her.  There  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  313 

nothing  then  to  restrain  the  blow  with  which  I  had  the  power  of 
crushing  her.  The  faithful  friends,  who  were  to  become  the  de- 
positaries of  my  vengeance,  in  apprising  her  of  the  danger,  would 
merely  give  her  a  single  moment  to  escape  it  by  doing  me  jus- 
tice." 

It  was  while  he  was  walking  on  the  platform  of  the  Bastile 
that  he  formed  this  chimerical  project,  for  chimerical  it  was,  there 
being  scarcely  a  probability  that  any  one  would  have  courage 
enough  to  second  his  attack  on  the  potent  and  vindictive  mar- 
chioness. Having  calculated  the  distance  between  the  top  of  the 
tower  and  the  street  of  St.  Anthony,  on  which  he  looked  down, 
he  perceived  that  it  was  possible  to  fling  a  packet  into  the  street. 
Nothing  of  this  kind  could,  however,  be  done  while  he  was  closely 
watched  by  Falconet  the  aid-major,  and  a  sergeant,  both  of  whom 
always  attended  him  in  his  walk.  Falconet  was  insufferably  gar- 
rulous, particularly  on  his  own  exploits,  and  Latude  hoped  to  dis- 
gust him  by  perpetual  sarcasm  and  contradiction.  He  succeeded 
in  silencing  him,  but  Falconet  still  clung  to  him  like  his  shadow.  To 
tire  him  out,  Latude  adopted  the  plan  of  almost  running  during  the 
whole  of  the  time  that  he  was  on  the  platform.  The  aid-major  re- 
monstrated, but  the  prisoner  answered,  that  rapid  motion  was  indis- 
pensably necessary  to  him,  in  order  to  excite  perspiration.  At 
last,  Falconet  suffered  him  to  move  about  as  he  pleased,  and  fell 
into  gossiping  with  the  sergeant,  in  which  they  both  engaged  so 
deeply  that  Latude  was  left  unnoticed. 

The  next  step  of  Latude  was  to  gaze  into  the  windows  of  the 
opposite  houses,  and  scrutinize  the  faces  of  the  persons  whom  he 
saw,  till  he  could  see  some  one  whose  countenance  seemed  indi- 
cative of  humane  feelings.  It  was  on  the  female  sex,  as  having 
more  sensibility  than  the  male,  that  he  mainly  relied  for  pity  and 
succour;  and  his  attention  was  finally  fixed  on  two  young  women, 
who  were  sitting  by  themselves  at  work  in  a  chamber,  and  whose 
looks  appeared  to  betoken  that  they  were  of  kind  dispositions. 
Having  caught  the  eye  of  one  of  them,  he  respectfully  saluted 
her  by  a  motion  of  his  hand ;  the  sign  was  answered  by  both  of 
them  in  a  similar  manner.  After  this  dumb  intercourse  had  con- 
tinued for  some  days,  he  showed  them  a  packet,  and  they  mo- 
tioned to  him  to  fling  it ;  but  he  gave  them  to  understand  that  it 
was  not  yet  ready. 

The  means  of  conveyance  for  his  intended  work  were  now 
secured,  but  as  he  no  longer  had  materials  for  writing,  he  had 
still  much  to  contrive.  But  he  was  not  of  a  nature  to  be  discou- 
raged even  by  serious  obstacles.  He  had  fortunately  been  allowed 


314  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


to  purchase  some  books,  and  he  resolved  to  write  between  the  lines 
and  on  the  margins  of  the  pages.  As  a  pen  made  of  a  carp  bone 
would  not  write  a  sufficiently  small  hand  for  interlineations,  he 
beat  a  halfpenny  as  thin  as  paper,  and  succeeded  in  shaping  it 
into  a  tolerable  pen.  Ink  was  yet  to  be  provided,  and  this  was 
the  worst  task  of  all  to  accomplish.  Having  on  the  former  occa- 
sion narrowly  escaped  gangrene  in  his  fingers,  he  was  afraid  to 
use  blood,  and  was  therefore  compelled  to  find  a  substitute.  To 
make  his  ink  of  lampblack  was  the  mode  which  occurred  to  him; 
but  as  he  was  allowed  neither  fire  nor  candle,  how  was  the  black 
to  be  obtained  ?  By  a  series  of  stratagems  he  managed  to  sur- 
mount the  difficulty.  Under  pretence  of  severe  toothache,  he 
borrowed  from  the  sergeant,  who  attended  him  on  the  platform,  a 
pipe  and  the  articles  for  lighting  it,  and  he  secreted  a  piece  of  the 
tinder.  By  a  simulated  fit  of  colic,  he  got  some  oil  from  the  doc- 
tor. This  he  put  into  a  pomatum  pot,  and  made  a  wick  from 
threads  drawn  out  of  the  sheets.  He  then  made  a  bow  and  peg, 
like  a  drill,  and  with  this  and  the  piece  of  tinder,  by  dint  of  rapid 
friction,  he  ignited  two  small  bits  of  dry  wood,  and  lighted  his 
lamp.  The  first  view  of  the  light  threw  him,  he  says,  into  a  de- 
lirium of  joy.  The  condensed  smoke  he  collected  on  the  bottom 
of  a  plate,  and  in  six  hours  he  had  sufficient  for  his  purpose. 
But  here  he  was  stopped  short,  and  all  his  trouble  seemed  likely 
to  be  thrown  away ;  for  the  light  and  oily  black  floated  on  the 
water  instead  of  mixing  with  it.  He  got  over  this  by  affecting 
to  have  a  violent  cold.  The  prison  apothecary  sent  him  some 
syrup,  and  Latude  employed  it  to  render  the  lamp-black  miscible 
with  water. 

Thus  provided  with  materials  for  writing,  Latude  sat  down  to 
compose  his  work.  "  My  whole  heart  and  soul  were  in  it,"  says 
he,  "and  I  steeped  my  pen  in  the  gall  with  which  they  were 
overflowing."  Having  completed  the  history  of  his  persecutor, 
he  wrote  a  letter  of  instructions  to  La  Beaumelle,  another  to  a 
friend,  the  Chevalier  de  Mehegan,  in  case  of  La  Beaumelle  being 
absent,  and  a  third  to  his  two  female  friends,  in  which  he  directed 
them  how  to  proceed,  and  entreated  them  to  exert  themselves  in 
his  behalf.  The  whole  of  the  papers  he  packed  up  in  a  leathern 
bag,  which  he  formed  out  of  the  lining  of  a  pair  of  breeches.  As 
the  packet  was  rather  bulky,  and  the  carrying  it  about  his  person 
was  dangerous,  he  was  anxious  to  get  rid  of  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
Some  time,  however,  elapsed  before  he  could  catch  sight  of  his 
friendly  neighbours.  At  length  one  of  them  saw  his  signal,  de- 
scended into  the  street,  and  caught  the  packet.  Three  months 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  319 

and  a  half  passed  away,  during  which  he  frequently  saw  them, 
and  they  seemed  to  be  pleased  with  something  that  related  to  him, 
but  he  was  unable  to  comprehend  their  signs.  At  last,  on  the 
18th  of  April,  1764,  they  approached  the  window,  and  displayed 
a  roll  of  paper,  on  which  was  written  in  large  characters,  "The 
Marchioness  of  Pompadour  died  yesterday." 

"I  thought  I  saw  the  heavens  open  before  me!"  exclaimed 
Latude.  His  oppressor  was  gone,  and  he  felt  an  undoubting  con- 
fidence that  his  liberation  would  immediately  follow  as  a  neces- 
sary consequence.  He  was  soon  cruelly  undeceived.  After  some 
days  had  passed  over,  he  wrote  to  the  lieutenant  of  police,  and 
claimed  his  freedom.  Sartine  had  given  strict  orders  to  all  the 
officers  of  the  Bastile  to  conceal  the  death  of  the  marchioness,  and 
he  instantly  hurried  to  the  prison,  to  discover  how  the  news  had 
reached  Latude.  He  summoned  the  prisoner  into  his  presence, 
and  harshly  questioned  him  on  the  subject.  Latude  perceived 
that  a  disclosure  might  be  prejudicial  to  the  kind  females,  and, 
with  equal  firmness  and  honour,  he  refused  to  make  it.  "  The 
avowal,"  said  Sartine,  "is  the  price  of  your  liberty."  The  cap- 
tive, however,  again  declared  that  he  would  rather  perish  than 
purchase  the  blessing  at  such  a  cost.  Finding  him  inflexible,  the 
baffled  lieutenant  of  police  retired  in  anger.  Irritated  by  repeated 
letters,  petitions,  and  remonstrances  being  neglected,  and  having 
been  led  to  fear  that  he  was  to  be  perpetually  imprisoned,  to  pre- 
vent him  from  suing  Pompadour's  heirs,  Latude  in  an  evil  hour 
lost  all  command  over  himself,  and  wrote  a  violent  epistle  to  Sar- 
tine, avowedly  for  the  purpose  of  enraging  him.  This  act  of 
insane  passion  was  punished  by  instant  removal  to  one  of  the 
worst  dungeons,  where  his  fare  was  bread  and  water. 

After  Latude  had  been  for  eighteen  days  in  the  dungeon,  M. 
de  Sartine  obtained  an  order  to  transfer  him  to  Vincennes,  and 
immure  him  in  an  oubliette.  Before  he  removed  the  prisoner,  he 
circulated  a  report  "that  he  meant  to  deliver  him,  but  that,  to 
accustom  him  by  degrees  to  a  change  of  air,  he  was  going  to 
place  him  for  a  few  months  in  a  convent  of  monks."  On  the 
night  of  the  14th  of  August,  1764,  an  officer  of  police,  with  two 
assistants, came  to  convey  turn  to  his  new  prison.  "  My  keepers," 
says  he,  "fastened  an  iron  chain  round  my  neck,  the  end  of 
which  they  placed  under  the  bend  of  my  knees ;  one  of  them 
placed  one  hand  upon  my  mouth,  and  the  other  behind  my  head, 
whilst  his  companion  pulled  the  chain  with  all  his  might,  and 
completely  bent  me  double.  The  pain  I  suffered  was  so  intense, 
that  I  thought  my  loins  and  spine  were  crushed;  I  have.no  doubt 


316  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


it  equaled  that  endured  by  the  wretch  who  is  broken  on  the 
wheel.  In  this  state  I  was  conveyed  from  the  Bastile  to  Vin- 
cennes." 

At  Vincennes  he  was  placed  in  a  cell.  His  mind  and  body 
were  now  both  overpowered  by  the  severity  of  his  fate,  dangerous 
illness  came  on,  and  he  every  day  grew  weaker.  Fortunately  for 
Latude,  M.  Guyonnet,  the  governor  of  the  fortress,  had  nothing 
of  "the  steeled  gaoler"  about  him;  he  was  a  generous,  humane 
man,  of  amiable  manners.  He  listened  to  the  mournful  tale  of 
the  captive,  wept  for  his  misfortunes,  took  on  himself  the  respon- 
sibility of  giving  him  a  good  apartment,  and  obtained  for  him  the 
privilege  of  walking  daily  for  two  hours  in  the  garden. 

Despairing,  as  well  he  might,  of  being  ever  released  by  his  in- 
flexible enemies,  Latude  meditated  incessantly  on  the  means  of 
escaping.  Fifteen  months  elapsed  before  an  opportunity  occur- 
red, and  then  it  was  brought  about  by  chance.  He  was  walking 
in  the  garden,  on  a  November  afternoon,  when  a  thick  fog  sud- 
denly came  on.  The  idea  of  turning  it  to  account  rushed  into  his 
mind.  He  was  guarded  by  two  sentries  and  a  Serjeant,  who 
never  quitted  his  side  for  an  instant ;  but  he  determined  to  make 
a  bold  attempt.  By  a  violent  push  of  his  elbows  he  threw  off 
the  sentries,  then  pushed  down  the  serjeant,  and  darted  pasta  third 
sentry,  who  did  not  perceive  him  till  he  was  gone  by.  All  four 
set  up  the  cry  of  "Seize  him!"  and  Latude  joined  in  it  still  more 
loudly,  pointing  with  his  finger,  to  mislead  the  pursuers.  There 
remained  only  one  sentry  to  elude,  but  he  was  on  the  alert,  and 
unfortunately  knew  him.  Presenting  his  bayonet,  he  threatened 
to  kill  the  prisoner  if  he  did  not  stop.  "  'My  dear  Chenu,'  said  I 
to  him, « you  are  incapable  of  such  an  action ;  your  orders  are  to 
arrest,  and  not  to  kill  me.'  I  had  slackened  my  pace,  and  came 
up  to  him  slowly;  as  soon  as  I  was  close  to  him,  I  sprang  upon 
his  musket,  I  wrenched  it  from  him  with  such  violence,  that  he 
was  thrown  down  in  the  struggle;  I  jumped  over  his  body,  fling- 
ing the  musket  to  a  distance  of  ten  paces,  lest  he  should  fire  it 
after  me,  and  once  more  I  achieved  my  liberty." 

Favoured  by  the  fog,  Latude  contrived  to  hide  himself  in  the 
park  till  night,  when  he  scaled  the  wall,  and  proceeded,  by  by- 
ways, to  Paris.  He  sought  a  refuge  with  the  two  kind  females 
to  whom  he  had  entrusted  his  packet.  They  were  the  daughters 
of  a  hair-dresser  named  Lebrun.  The  asylum  for  which  he  asked 
was  granted  in  the  kindest  manner.  They  procured  for  him  some 
linen,  and  an  apartment  in  the  house,  gave  him  fifteen  livres  which 
they  had.  saved,  and  supplied  him  with  food  from  all  their  own 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  317 

meals.  The  papers  confided  to  them  they  had  endeavoured,  but  in 
vain,  to  deliver  to  the  persons  for  whom  they  were  intended;  two 
of  those  persons  were  absent  from  France  ;  the  third  was  recently 
married,  and  his  wife,  on  hearing  that  the  packet  was  from  the 
Bastile,  would  not  suffer  her  husband  to  receive  it. 

Latude  was  out  of  prison,  but  he  was  not  out  of  danger.  He 
was  convinced  that,  to  whatever  quarter  he  might  bend  his  steps, 
it  would  be  next  to  impossible  to  elude  M.  de  Sartine,  who,  by 
means  of  his  spies,  was  omnipresent.  In  this  emergency,  he 
deemed  it  prudent  to  conciliate  his  persecutor ;  and  he  accordingly 
wrote  a  letter  to  him,  entreating  forgiveness  for  insults  offered  in 
a  moment  of  madness,  promising  future  silence  and  submission, 
and  pathetically  imploring  him  to  become  his  protector.  This 
overture  had  no  result.  He  tried  the  influence  of  various  persons, 
among  whom  was  the  Prince  of  Conti,  but  everywhere  he  was 
met  by  the  prejudice  which  Sartine  had  raised  against  him;  and, 
to  add  to  his  alarm  and  vexation,  he  learned  that  a  strict  search 
was  making  for  hirn,  and  that  a  reward  of  a  thousand  crowns  was 
offered  for  his  apprehension. 

As  a  last  resource,  he  determined  to  make  personal  appeal  to 
the  Duke  of  Choiseul,  the  first  minister,  who  was  then  with  the 
court  at  Fontainebleau.  It  was  mid-December,  when  he  set  out, 
the  ground  was  covered  with  ice  and  snow,  and  the  cold  was  in- 
tense. A  morsel  of  bread  was  his  whole  stock  of  provisions,  he 
had  no  money,  and  he  dared  not  approach  a  house,  proceed  on 
the  high  road,  or  travel  by  day,  lest  he  should  be  intercepted. 
In  his  nightly  circuitous  journey,  of  more  than  forty  miles,  he  often 
fell  into  ditches,  or  tore  himself  in  scrambling  through  the  hedges. 
"  I  hid  myself  in  a  field,"  says  he,  "  during  the  whole  of  the  16th; 
and,  after  walking  for  two  successive  nights,  I  arrived  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  17th  at  Fontainebleau,  worn  out  by  fatigue,  hunger, 
grief,  and  despair." 

Latude  was  too  soon  convinced  that  there  was  no  chance  of 
escaping  from  the  vengeance  of  M.  de  Sartine.  As  soon  as  he 
had  announced  his  arrival  to  the  duke,  two  officers  of  the  police 
came  to  convey  him,  as  they  said,  to  the  minister;  but  their  mask 
was  speedily  thrown  off,  and  he  found  that  they  were  to  escort  him 
back  to  Vincennes.  They  told  him  that  every  road  had  been 
beset,  and  every  vehicle  watched,  to  discover  him,  and  they  ex- 
pressed their  wonder  at  his  having  been  able  to  reach  Fontaine- 
bleau undetected.  "I  now  learned,"  says  he, «« for  the  first  time, 
that  there  was  no  crime  so  great,  or  so  severely  punished,  as  a 
complaint  against  a  minister.  These  exempts  quoted  to  me  the 


318  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

case  of  some  deputies  from  the  provinces,  who,  having  been  sent 
a  short  time  before  to  denounce  to  the  king  the  exactions  of  certain 
intendants,  had  been  arrested  and  punished  as  dangerous  incen- 
diaries !" 

On  his  reaching  Vincennes,  he  was  thrown  into  a  horrible  dun- 
geon, barely  six  feet  by  six  and  a  half  in  diameter,  which  was 
secured  by  four  iron-plated,  treble-bolted  doors,  distant  a  foot  from 
each  other.  To  aggravate  his  misery,  he  was  told  that  he  deserved 
a  thousand  times  worse  treatment ;  for  that  he  had  been  the  cause 
of  the  serjeant  who  guarded  him  being  hanged.  This  appalling 
news  entirely  overwhelmed  him;  he  gave  himself  up  to  frantic 
despair,  and  incessantly  accused  himself  as  the  murderer  of  the 
unfortunate  man.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  however,  a  com- 
passionate sentinel,  who  was  moved  by  his  cries  and  groans,  re- 
lieved his  heart,  by  informing  him  that  the  serjeant  was  well,  and 
had  only  been  imprisoned. 

The  kind-hearted  governor  sometimes  visited  Latude,  but  the 
information  which  he  brought  was  not  consolatory.  He  had 
tried  to  move  M.  de  Sartine,  and  had  found  him  inflexible.  Sar- 
tine,  however,  sent  to  offer  the  prisoner  his  liberty,  on  condition 
that  he  would  name  the  person  who  held  his  papers,  and  he  pledged 
his  honour  that  no  harm  should  come  to  that  person.  Latude 
knew  him  too  well  to  trust  him.  He  resolutely  answered,  "  I 
entered  my  dungeon  an  honest  man,  and  I  will  die  rather  than 
leave  it  a  dastard  and  a  knave." 

Into  the  den,  where  he  was  as  it  were  walled  up,  no  ray  of  light 
entered ;  the  air  was  never  changed  but  at  the  moment  when  the 
turnkey  opened  the  wicket;  the  straw  on  which  he  lay  was  always 
rotten  with  damp, and  the  narrowness  of  the  space  scarcely  allowed 
him  room  to  move.  His  health  of  course  rapidly  declined,  and 
his  body  swelled  enormously,  retaining  in  every  part  of  it,  when 
touched,  the  impression  of  the  finger.  Such  were  his  agonies 
that  he  implored  his  keepers,  as  an  act  of  mercy,  to  terminate  his 
existence.  At  last,  after  having  endured  months  of  intense  suffer- 
ing, he  was  removed  to  a  habitable  apartment,  where  his  strength 
gradually  returned. 

Though  his  situation  was  improved,  he  was  still  entirely 
secluded  from  society.  Hopeless  of  escape,  he  pondered  on  the 
means  of  at  least  opening  an  intercourse  with  his  fellow-prisoners. 
On  the  outer  side  of  his  chamber  was  the  garden,  in  which  each 
of  the  prisoners,  Latude  alone  being  excluded,  was  daily  allowed 
to  walk  by  himself  for  a  certain  time.  This  wall  was  five  feet 
thick,  so  that  to  penetrate  it  seemed  almost  as  difficult  as  to  escape. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  319 

But  what  cannot  time  and  perseverance  accomplish !  His  only 
instruments  were  a  broken  piece  of  a  sword  and  an  iron  hoop  of 
a  bucket,  which  he  had  contrived  to  secrete;  yet  with  these,  by 
dint  of  twenty-six  months'  labour,  he  managed  to  perforate  the 
mass  of  stone.  The  hole  was  made  in  a  dark  corner  of  the 
chimney,  and  he  stopped  the  interior  opening  with  a  plug,  formed 
of  sand  and  plaster.  A  long  wooden  peg,  rather  shorter  than  the 
hole,  was  inserted  into  it,  that,  in  case  of  the  external  opening 
being  noticed  and  sounded,  it  might  seem  to  be  not  more  than  three 
inches  in  depth. 

For  a  signal  to  the  prisoner  walking  in  the  garden,  he  tied 
several  pieces  of  wood  so  as  to  form  a  stick  about  six  feet  long,  at 
the  end  of  which  hung  a  bit  of  ribbon.  The  twine  with  which  it 
was  tied  was  made  from  threads  drawn  out  of  his  linen.  He* 
thrust  the  stick  through  the  hole,  and  succeeded  in  attracting  the 
attention  of  a  fellow-captive,  the  Baron  de  Venae,  who  had  been 
nineteen  years  confined  for  having  presumed  to  give  advice  to 
Madame  de  Pompadour.  He  successively  became  acquainted 
with  several  others,  two  of  whom  were  also  the  victims  of  the 
marchioness ;  one  of  them  had  been  seventeen  years  in  prison, 
on  suspicion  of  having  spoken  ill  of  her;  the  other  had  been 
twenty-three  years,  because  he  was  suspected  of  having  written 
against  her  a  pamphlet,  which  he  had  never  even  seen.  The 
prisoners  contrived  to  convey  ink  and  paper  to  Latude  through 
the  hole;  he  opened  a  correspondence  with  them,  encouraged 
them  to  write  to  each  other,  and  became  the  medium  through 
which  they  transmitted  their  letters.  The  burden  of  captivity 
was  much  lightened  to  him  by  this  new  occupation. 

An  unfortunate  change  for  the  prisoners  now  took  place.  The 
benevolent  and  amiable-mannered  Guyonnet  was  succeeded  by 
Rougemont,  a  man  who  was  a  contrast  to  him  in  every  respect; 
he  was  avaricious,  flinty-hearted,  brutal,  and  a  devoted  tool  of  M. 
de  Sartine.  The  diet  which  he  provided  for  the  captives  was  of 
the  worst  kind ;  and  their  scanty  comforts  were  as  much  as  pos- 
sible abridged.  That  he  might  not  be  thwarted  in  the  exercise 
of  his  tyranny,  he  dismissed  such  of  the  prison  attendants  as  he 
suspected  of  being  humane,  and  replaced  them  by  men  whose 
dispositions  harmonized  with  his  own.  How  utterly  devoid  of 
feeling  were  the  beings  whom  he  selected,  may  be  judged  by  the 
language  of  his  cook.  This  libel  on  the  human  race  is  known  to 
have  said,  "If  the  prisoners  were  ordered  to  be  fed  upon  straw,  I 
would  give  them  stable-litter;"  and  on  other  occasions,  he  de- 
clared, "If  I  thought  there  was  a  single  drop  of  juice  in  the  meat 


320  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

of  the  prisoners,  I  would  trample  it  under  my  foot  to  squeeze  it 
out."  Such  a  wretch  would  not  have  scrupled  to  put  poison  into 
the  food,  had  not  his  master  had  an  interest  in  keeping  the  cap- 
tives alive.  When  any  one  complained  of  the  provisions,  he  was 
insultingly  answered,  "It  is  but  too  good  for  prisoners;"  when  he 
applied  for  the  use  of  an  article,  however  insignificant,  the  reply 
was,  "It  is  contrary  to  the  rules."  So  horrible  was  the  despotism 
of  the  governor  that,  within  three  months,  four  of  the  prisoners 
strangled  themselves  in  despair.  "The  Inquisition  itself,"  says 
Latude,  "might  envy  his  proficiency  in  torture!" 

Latude  was  one  of  the  first  to  suffer  from  the  brutality  of  Rouge- 
mont.  The  apartment  in  which  Guyonnet  had  placed  him  com- 
manded a  fine  view.  The  enjoyment  of  a  prospect  was  thought 
•to  be  too  great  a  luxury  for  a  prisoner,  and,  accordingly,  Rouge- 
mont  set  about  depriving  him  of  it.  He  partly  built  up  the 
windows,  filled  the  interstices  of  the  bars  with  close  iron  net- 
work; and  then,  lest  a  blade  of  grass  should  still  be  visible, 
blockaded  the  outside  with  a  blind  like  a  mill-hopper,  so  that 
nothing  could  be  perceived  but  a  narrow  slip  of  sky.  But  his 
situation  was  soon  made  far  worse.  In  a  fit  of  anger,  caused  by 
his  being  refused  the  means  of  writing  to  the  lieutenant  of  police, 
he  imprudently  chanced  to  wish  himself  in  his  former  cell  again. 
He  was  taken  at  his  word.  On  the  following  morning,  when  he 
had  forgotten  his  unguarded  speech,  he  was  led  back  to  his  dark 
and  noisome  dungeon.  "Few  will  believe,"  says  he,  "that  such 
inhuman  jests  could  be  practiced  in  a  civilized  country." 

M.  de  Sartine,  being  now  appointed  minister  of  the  marine,  was 
replaced  by  M.  Lenoir.  It  was  some  time  before  Latude  knew 
of  this  change,  and  he  derived  no  benefit  from  it,  the  new  head  of 
the  police  being  the  friend  of  Sartine.  He  wished  to  address  the 
minister,  but  the  means  were  refused,  and  he  again  tasked  his 
skill  to  remove  the  obstacle.  The  only  light  he  enjoyed  was 
when  his  food  was  brought  to  him.  The  turnkey  then  set  down 
the  lamp  at  the  entrance  of  the  wicket,  and  went  away  to  attend 
to  other  business.  Of  the  turnkey's  short  absence  Latude  availed 
himself  to  write  a  letter ;  it  was  written  on  a  piece  of  his  shirt, 
with  a  straw  dipped  in  blood.  His  appeal  was  disregarded  ;  and, 
to  prevent  him  from  repeating  it  in  the  same  manner,  the  governor 
ordered  a  socket  for  the  candle  to  be  fixed  on  the  outside  of  the 
wicket,  so  that  only  a  few  feeble  rays  might  penetrate  into  the 
dungeon.  But  the  captive  was  not  to  be  easily  discouraged; 
and,  besides,  he  took  a  delight  in  baffling  his  persecutors.  He 
had  remaining  in  a  pomatum  pot  some  oil,  sent  by  the  surgeon  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


alleviate  the  colic  pains  which  were  caused  by  the  dampness  of 
his  abode.  Cotton  drawn  from  his  stockings  supplied  him  with  a 
wick.  He  then  twisted  some  of  his  straw  into  a  rope,  which  he 
coiled  up,  and  fastened,  in  the  shape  of  a  bee-hive.  With  another 
portion  of  straw  he  made  a  sort  of  stick,  five  feet  long-,  with  a  bit 
of  linen  at  the  end  of  it.  The  turnkey  was  always  obliged  to 
bring  his  food  at  twice ;  and,  while  he  was  fetching  the  second 
portion,  Latude  thrust  out  the  stick,  obtained  a  light  from  the  can- 
dle, lighted  his  taper,  and  then  closely  covered  it  over  with  the 
bee-hive  basket.  When  he  was  left  by  himself  he  unhooded  the 
lamp,  and  wrote  a  second  letter  with  his  own  blood.  The  only 
result  was,  to  make  his  gaolers  believe  that  he  was  aided  by  the 
prince  of  darkness. 

It  was  not  till  Latude  was  again  at  death's  door  that  he  was 
removed  from  his  dungeon;  on  being  taken  out  he  fainted,  and 
remained  for  a  long  while  insensible.  When  he  came  to  himself 
his  mind  wandered,  and  for  some  time  he  imagined  that  he  had 
passed  into  the  other  world.  Medical  aid  was  granted  to  him,  and 
he  slowly  recovered  his  health.  The  turnkeys  now  occasionally 
dropped  obscure  hints  of  some  beneficial  change,  which  he  was 
at  a  loss  to  understand.  The  mystery  was  at  length  explained. 
The  benevolent  M.  de  Malesherbes  had  lately  been  appointed  a 
cabinet  minister,  and  one  of  his  first  acts  was  to  inspect  the  state 
prisons.  He  saw  Latude,  listened  to  his  mournful  story,  was 
indignant  at  his  six-and-twenty  years'  captivity,  and  promised 
redress. 

Latude  had  been  more  than  eleven  years  at  Vincennes,  when 
the  order  arrived  for  his  release.  His  heart  beat  high  with  ex- 
ultation; but  he  was  doomed  to  suffer  severe  disappointment.  At 
the  moment  when  he  imagined  that  he  was  free,  an  officer  informed 
him,  that  the  minister  thought  it  expedient  to  accustom  him  gra- 
dually to  a  purer  air,  and  that  he  was  therefore  directed  to  convey 
him  to  a  convent,  where  he  was  to  remain  for  a  few  months. 
These  were  the  very  same  words  which  had  been  spoken  to  him 
when  he  was  sent  from  the  Bastile  to  Vincennes;  and,  knowing 
their  meaning  but  too  well,  they  almost  palsied  his  faculties.  His 
enemies  had  been  busily  at  work ;  by  gross  misrepresentations, 
and  by  forging  in  his  name  an  extravagant  memorial  to  the  king\, 
they  had  induced  M.  de  JVfalesherbes  to  believe  that  the  prisoner's 
intellects  were  disordered,  and  that  he  could  not  be  immediately 
released  without  peril. 

It  was  to  the  hospital  of  Charenton,  the  Parisian  bedlam,  that 
the  officers  were  removing  Latude.     When  he  was  about  to  quit 
21 


322  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

Vincennes,  he  heard  the  brutal  Rougemont  describe  him  to  them 
as  a  dangerous  and  hardened  criminal,  who  could  not  be  too  rigor- 
ously confined.  It  was  also  hinted,  that  the  prisoner  was  gifted 
with  magical  powers,  by  virtue  of  which  he  had  thrice  escaped  in 
an  extraordinary  manner.  When  he  was  turned  over  to  the 
monks,  called  the  Brothers  of  Charity,  who  had  the  management 
of  Charenton,  these  particulars  were  faithfully  reported  to  them, 
and  he  was  introduced  under  the  name  of  Danger,  in  order  to 
excite  an  idea  of  his  formidable  character. 

Unacquainted  with  the  nature  of  Charenton,  Latude,  on  seeing 
the  monks,  had  supposed  that  he  was  in  a  monastery.  On  finding 
that  he  was  in  a  madhouse,  he  dropped  lifeless  to  the  ground.  He 
was  conducted  to  a  cell,  which  was  over  the  vault  where  the  furi- 
ous lunatics  were  chained,  and  their  shrieks  and  groans  were 
horrible.  In  the  night  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices,  and  discov- 
ered that  two  prisoners,  one  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  the  other 
in  that  above,  were  talking  about  him,  out  of  their  windows.  They 
were  both  of  them  state  prisoners,  the  hospital  being  occasionally 
converted  into  a  gaol  by  the  ministers;  one  was  named  St.  Mag- 
loire,  the  other  the  Baron  de  Prilles.  Latude  introduced  himself 
to  them,  and  they  promised  him  all  the  services  in  their  power. 
De  Prilles  possessed  considerable  influence  with  the  officers  of 
the  establishment,  and  he  exerted  it  so  effectually,  that  he  obtained 
permission  for  Latude  to  be  visited  by  his  fellow-captives.  He 
had,  however,  enjoyed  this  comfort  only  for  a  short  time,  when 
Rougemont  came  and  gave  orders  for  his  being  placed  in  close 
and  solitary  confinement. 

Latude  remained  in  seclusion  for  a  considerable  time ;  but,  at 
length,  by  dint  of  incessant  remonstrances,  De  Prilles  induced  the 
superiors  of  the  hospital  to  allow  his  new  friend  to  take  his  meals 
in  the  apartment  of  St.  Bernard,  one  of  his  fellow-captives. 
Another  favour  was  soon  after  granted ;  he  was  permitted  to  take 
some  exercise  in  the  smaller  court  when  all  the  inmates  of  the 
place  had  been  shut  up  for  the  night.  It  was  then  winter;  and, 
at  eight  o'clock,  the  keeper  led  him  to  the  court;  and,  when  he  was 
not  disposed  to  walk  with  him,  he  placed  his  lantern  on  a  stone, 
and  watched  him  through  some  holes  purposely  bored  in  the  door. 

Trifling  as  were  these  indulgences,  the  worthy  monks  had  dis- 
obeyed positive  orders  in  allowing  them.  But  they  did  not  stop 
here.  The  head  of  the  hospital,  Father  Facio,  was  so  deeply 
moved  by  the  injustice  done  to  the  captive,  that  he  waited  on  M. 
de  Malesherbes  to  intercede  for  him.  On  his  assuring  the  min- 
ister that  the  prisoner  was  submissive,  docile  and  perfectly  sane, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  323 

his  hearer,  who  had  been  told  that  Latude  was  a  furious  madman, 
was  astonished  and  indignant  at  having  been  deceived.  He 
promised  that  he  would  speedily  release  him,  and  desired  that  ha 
might,  in  the  meanwhile,  enjoy  as  much  liberty  as  the  hospital 
regulations  would  allow.  Unfortunately,  however,  for  Latude, 
Malesherbes  very  shortly  after  ceased  to  be  one  of  the  ministers. 

Though  he  failed  to  obtain  his  freedom,  the  situation  of  Latude 
was  much  ameliorated ;  he  might  roam  wherever  he  would,  within 
the  bounds  of  the  establishment.  He  derived  additional  comfort 
from  several  of  the  state  prisoners  being  now  suffered  to  take  their 
meals  together,  instead  of  having  them  separately  in  their  apart- 
ments. The  party  thus  formed  admitted  to  their  society  several 
of  the  lunatics  who  had  been  liberally  educated,  and  were  harm- 
less. One  of  these  unfortunate  men  asserted  himself  to  be  the 
Divinity,  another  claimed  to  be  a  son  of  Louis  XV.,  a  third  took 
a  higher  flight  and  was  the  reigning  monarch.  These  aspiring 
pretensions  were  strongly  contrasted  with  the  humility  of  others. 
A  barrister,  whose  intellect  love  had  shaken,  manifested  his  insanity 
by  throwing  himself  at  every  one's  feet  and  imploring  pardon. 
Another  individual,  who  had  been  a  hermit,  obstinately  persisted 
in  believing  that  Latude  was  a  German  elector,  and  in  spite  of  all 
attempts  to  prevent  it,  would  perform  for  him  the  meanest  domestic 
offices.  "If  I  told  him  in  the  morning,"  says  Latude,  "that  a 
flea  had  disturbed  my  rest,  he  would  not  leave  my  chamber  till  he 
had  killed  it ;  he  would  bring  it  to  me  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand, 
to  show  me  what  he  had  done.  *  My  lord,'  he  would  say,  *  it 
will  bite  no  more,  and  will  never  again  disturb  the  sleep  of  your 
most  serene  highness.'  v 

A  fellow-prisoner  who  had  recently  been  confined  in  a  cell 
during  a  furious  paroxysm  of  insanity,  now  gave  some  information 
to  Latude  which  deeply  wounded  his  feelings.  From  him  Latude 
learned  that  his  early  friend  d'Alegre  was  in  the  prison,  a  raving 
maniac,  shut  up  in  an  iron  cage.  His  entreaties  were  so  pressing, 
that  the  monks  granted  him  permission  to  visit  this  unfortunate 
being.  He  found  him  a  lamentable  spectacle,  shrunk  to  a  skele- 
ton, his  hair  matted,  and  his  eyes  sunken  and  haggard.  Latude 
rushed  to  embrace  him,  but  was  repelled  with  signs  of  aversion 
by  the  maniac.  In  vain  he  strove  to  recall  himself  to  the  maniac's 
recollection ;  the  lost  being  only  looked  fiercely  at  him,  and  ex- 
claimed, in  a  hollow  tone,  "I  know  you  not! — begone! — I  am 
God  !"  This  victim  of  despotism  had  been  ten  years  at  Charen- 
ton,  and  he  continued  there,  in  the  same  melancholy  state,  during 


324  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

the  remainder  of  his  existence,  which  was  protracted  till  a  very 
late  period. 

-  After  Latude  had  been  for  nearly  two  years  at  Charenton,  his 
friends  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  order  for  his  release,  on  condi- 
tion that  he  should  permanently  fix  his  abode  at  Montagnac,  his 
native  place.  He  quitted  the  prison  without  hat  or  coat ;  all  his 
dress  consisting  of  a  tattered  pair  of  breeches  and  stockings,  a 
pair  of  slippers,  and  a  great-coat  thirty  years  old,  which  damp 
had  reduced  to  rottenness.  He  was  penniless,  too  ;  "  but,"  says 
he,  "I  was  regardless  of  all  these  circumstances;  it  was  enough 
that  I  was  free  !" 

With  some  money,  which  he  borrowed  from  a  person  who  knew 
his  family,  Latude  procured  decent  clothing.  He  called  on  M. 
Le  Noir,  who  received  him  not  unfavourably,  and  desired  him  to 
depart  without  delay  for  Montagnac.  Unfortunately,  he  did  not 
follow  this  advice.  He  lingered  in  Paris  to  draw  up  a  memorial 
to  the  king,  soliciting  a  recompense  for  his  plans  ;  and  he  had  an 
interview  with  the  Prince  de  Beauveau,  to  whom  he  related  his 
woeful  story.  In  his  memorial,  he  mentioned  M.de  Sartine;  and, 
though  he  intimates  that  he  said  nothing  offensive,  we  may  doubt 
whether  he  manifested  much  forbearance.  The  ministers  now 
gave  him  peremptory  orders  to  quit  Paris ;  it  is  obvious  that  they 
were  acquainted  with  his  memorial,  and  were  irritated  by  it  beyond 
measure.  He  had  proceeded  forty-three  leagues  on  his  journey 
to  the  south  of  France,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  an  officer  of 
police,  who  carried  him  back  a  prisoner  to  the  capital. 

Latude  was  now  taught  that  hitherto  he  had  not  reached  the 
lowest  depth  of  misery;  he  was  doomed  to  experience  a  "  bitter 
change,  severer  for  severe."  Till  this  time  his  companions  in 
suffering  had  been  men  with  whom  it  was  no  disgrace  to  associate ; 
but,  in  this  instance,  he  was  tossed  among  a  horde  of  the  most 
abandoned  ruffians  on  earth ;  he  was  immured  in  the  Bicetre,  in 
that  part  of  the  gaol  which  was  appropriated  to  swindlers,  thieves, 
murderers,  and  other  atrocious  criminals,  the  scum  and  offscouring 
of  France.  On  his  arrival  there,  he  was  stripped,  clad  in  the 
coarse  and  degrading  prison  attire,  thrust  into  a  dungeon  and 
supplied  with  a  scanty  portion  of  bread  and  water. 

He  was  now  in  the  midst  of  wretches,  who  tormented  him  with 
questions  as  to  what  robberies  and  murders  he  had  committed, 
boasted  of  their  own  numerous  crimes,  and  laughed  at  his  pre- 
tending to  innocence.  "I  was  condemned,"  says  he,  "to  endure 
their  gross  and  disgusting  language,  to  listen  to  their  unprincipled 
projects,  in  short  to  breathe  the  very  atmosphere  of  vice."  It 


• 
HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  325 


was  in  vain  that,  to  procure  his  liberation  from  this  den  of  infamy, 
he  wrote  to  the  friends  who  had  rescued  him  from  Charenton  ; 
some  of  them  were  silenced  by  the  old  falsehood  that  he  was  a 
dangerous  madman,  and  others  were  alienated  by  being  told  that 
he  had  broken  into  the  house  of  a  lady  of  rank,  and  by  threats 
had  terrified  her  into  giving  him  a  large  sum  of  money.  This 
last  calumny  stung  him  to  the  soul,  and  he  wrote  to  M.  de  Sartine 
to  demand  a  trial;  but  this  letter  produced  no  other  effect  than  the 
issuing  of  an  order  to  take  from  him  the  means  of  writing.  Such 
accumulated  injustice  soured  his  mind,  and  brooding  over  the 
hope  of  revenge,  he  assumed  the  name  of  Jedor,  in  allusion  to  a 
dog  so  called,  the  figure  of  which  he  had  seen  on  the  gate  of  a 
citadel,  with  a  bone  between  its  paws,  and  underneath  as  a  motto, 
"I  gnaw  my  bone,  expecting  the  day  when  I  may  bite  him  who 
has  bitten  me." 

While  the  money  lasted  which  Latude  had  taken  into  the  prison, 
he  could  obtain  a  supply  of  food,  bad  indeed,  in  quality,  and 
villainously  cooked,  but  still  capable  of  supporting  nature.  But 
the  money  was  soon  spent,  and  he  was  then  reduced  to  the 
prison  allowance,  which  was  scanty  in  quantity,  of  the  worst 
kind,  and  often  polluted  by  an  admixture  of  filth  and  vermin. 
Latude  was  a  large  eater,  and  the  portion  of  food  allowed  to  him 
was  so  trifling  that  he  was  tortured  by  hunger.  To  such  extre- 
mity was  he  driven,  that  he  was  compelled  to  petition  the  sweepers 
to  give  him  some  of  the  hard  crusts  which  were  thrown  into  the 
passages  by  the  richer  prisoners,  and  which  were  collected  every 
morning  for  the  pigs. 

Bad  as  the  fare  of  Latude  was,  his  lodging  was  far  worse.  His 
windowless  cell,  only  eight  feet  square,  swarmed  with  fleas  and 
rats  to  such  a  degree  that  to  sleep  was  all  but  impossible ;  fifty 
rats  at  a  time  were  under  his  coverlet.  He  had  neither  fire  nor 
candle,  his  clothing  was  insufficient,  and  the  wind,  rain,  and  snow 
beat  furiously  through  the  iron  grating,  which  barely  admitted 
the  light.  In  rainy  weather,  and  during  thaws,  the  water  ran  in 
streams  down  the  walls  of  the  dungeon. 

Eight-and-thirty  months  were  spent  in  this  infernal  abode. 
Rheumatism,  that  prevented  him  from  quitting  his  pallet,  was  the 
first  consequence  of  his  exposed  situation.  This  brought  with 
it  an  aggravation  of  another  evil;  for  when  Latude  was  unable 
to  approach  the  wicket,  the  keeper  flung  in  his  bread,  and  gave 
him  no  soup.  Scurvy  of  the  most  inveterate  kind  at  length  at- 
tacked him,  his  limbs  were  swelled  and  blackened,  his  gums 
became  spongy,  and  his  teeth  loose,  and  he  could  no  longer  mas- 


326  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

ticate  the  bread.  For  three  days  he  lay  without  sustenance, 
voiceless  and  moveless,  and  he  was  just  on  the  point  of  expiring, 
when  he  was  conveyed  to  the  infirmary.  The  infirmary  was  a 
loathsome  place,  little  better  than  a  charnel-house,  but  the  medical 
aid  which  he  obtained  there  restored  him,  after  a  struggle  of 
many  months,  to  a  tolerable  state  of  health. 

On  his  recovery  he  was  placed  in  a  decent  apartment.  He 
did  not,  however,  long  enjoy  it.  Having  attempted  to  present 
a  petition  to  a  princess  of  the  house  of  Bouillon,  who  came  to 
see  the  Bicetre,  he  was  punished  by  being  thrust  into  a  dungeon 
more  horrible  than  that  which  he  had  previously  inhabited.  His 
own  words  will  best  describe  what  he  underwent.  "I  was," 
says  he,  "still  enduring  a  physical  torture  which  I  had  experi- 
enced before,  though  never  to  so  cruel  and  dangerous  an  extent. 
After  having  triumphed  over  so  many  disasters,  and  vanquished 
so  many  enemies  by  my  unshaken  constancy,  I  was  on  the  point 
of  yielding  to  the  intolerable  pain  occasioned  by  the  vermin  which 
infested  my  person.  My  dungeon  was  totally  dark,  my  eye-sight 
was  nearly  extinguished,  and  I  tried  in  vain  to  deliver  myself 
from  the  myriads  of  these  noxious  animals  that  assailed  me  at 
once ;  the  dreadful  irritation  made  me  tear  my  flesh  with  my 
teeth  and  nails,  until  my  whole  body  became  covered  with  ulcers ; 
insects  generated  in  the  wounds,  and  literally  devoured  me  alive. 
It  was  impossible  to  sleep;  I  was  driven  mad  with  agony,  my 
sufferings  were  drawing  to  a  close,  and  death  in  its  most  horrid 
shape  awaited  me." 

Gloomy  as  appearances  were,  the  dawn  of  a  brighter  day  was 
at  hand.  A  providential  occurrence  which  seemed  calculated  to 
destroy  his  last  hope,  was  the  cause  of  his  redemption.  In  1781 
the  President  de  Gourgue  visited  the  Bicetre,  heard  the  story  of 
Latude,  desired  that  the  captive  would  draw  up  a  memorial,  and 
promised  to  exert  himself  in  his  behalf.  Latude  wrote  the  me- 
morial, and  intrusted  it  to  a  careless  messenger,  who  dropped  it 
in  the  street.  The  packet  was  found  by  a  young  female,  Madame 
Legros,  who  carried  on  in  a  humble  way  the  business  of  a  mercer, 
and  whose  husband  was  a  private  teacher.  The  envelop  being 
torn  by  lying  in  the  wet,  and  the  seal  broken,  she  looked  at  the 
contents,  which  were  signed  "  Masers  de  Latude,  a  prisoner  dur- 
ing thirty-two  years,  at  the  Bastile,  at  Vincennes,  and  at  the 
Bicetre,  where  he  is  confined  on  bread  and  water,  in  a  dungeon 
ten  feet  under  ground." 

The  gentle  heart  of  Madame  Legros  was  shocked  at  the  idea  of 
the  protracted  agony  which  the  prisoner  must  have  suffered.  After 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTTLE.  327 

she  had  taken  a  copy  of  the  memorial,  her  husband,  who  partici- 
pated in  her  feelings,  carried  it  to  the  president.  Bat  the  magis- 
trate had  been  deceived  by  the  falsehood,  that  the  captive  was  a  dan- 
gerous incurable  lunatic,  and  he  advised  them  to  desist  from  efforts 
which  must  be  fruitless.  Madame  Legros,  however,  who  had  much 
good  sense  and  acuteness,  would  not  believe  that  the  captive  was 
mad;  she  again  read  the  memorial  attentively, and  could  perceive 
in  it  no  indication  of  disordered  intellect.  She  was  firmly  con- 
vinced that  he  was  the  victim  of  persecution,  and  she  resolved 
to  devote  her  time  and  her  faculties  to  his  deliverance.  Never 
perhaps  was  the  sublimity  of  benevolence  so  fully  displayed  as  by 
this  glorious  woman,  whose  image  ought  to  have  been  handed 
down  to  posterity  by  the  painter's  and  the  sculptor's  hand.  In 
the  course  of  her  philanthropic  struggles,  she  had  to  endure 
calumny  and  severe  privations;  she  was  reduced  to  sell  her  orna- 
ments and  part  of  her  furniture,  and  to  subsist  on  hard  and  scanty 
fare;  yet  she  never  paused  for  a  moment  from  the  pursuit  of  her 
object,  never  uttered  a  sentence  of  regret  that  she  had  engaged 
in  it.  Her  husband,  too,  though  less  personally  active,  has  the 
merit  of  having  entirely  coincided  with  her  in  opinion,  and  aided 
her  as  far  as  he  had  the  power. 

It  is  delightful  to  know  that  her  noble  labours  were  crowned 
with  success.  Her  toils,  and  the  result  of  them,  are  thus  summed 
up  by  Latude,  who  has  also  narrated  them  at  great  length.  "Be- 
ing thoroughly  convinced  of  my  innocence,  she  resolved  to  attempt 
my  liberation:  she  succeeded,  after  occupying  three  years  in  un- 
paralleled efforts,  and  unwearied  perseverance.  Every  feeling 
heart  will  be  deeply  moved  at  the  recital  of  the  means  she  em- 
ployed and  the  difficulties  she  surmounted.  Without  relations, 
friends,  fortune,  or  assistance,  she  undertook  everything,  and 
shrank  from  no  danger  and  no  fatigue.  She  penetrated  to  the 
levees  of  ministers,  and  forced  her  way  to  the  presence  of  the 
great;  she  spoke  with  the  natural  eloquence  of  truth,  and  false- 
hood fled  before  her  words.  They  excited  her  hopes  and  extin- 
guished them,  received  her  with  kindness  and  repulsed  her  rudely; 
she  reiterated  her  petitions,  and  returned  a  hundred  times  to  the 
attack,  emboldened  by  defeat  itself.  The  friends  her  virtues  had 
created  trembled  for  her  liberty,  even  for  her  life.  She  resisted 
all  their  entreaties,  disregarded  their  remonstrances,  and  continued 
to  plead  the  cause  of  humanity.  When  seven  months  pregnant, 
she  went  on  foot  to  Versailles,  in  the  midst  of  winter;  she  re- 
turned home  exhausted  with  fatigue  and  worn  out  with  disap- 
pointment; she  worked  more  than  half  the  night  to  obtain  sub- 


328  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

sistence  for  the  following  day,  and  then  repaired  again  to  Ver- 
sailles. At  the  expiration  of  eighteen  months,  she  visited  me  in 
my  dungeon,  and  communicated  her  efforts  and  her  hopes.  For 
the  first  time  I  saw  my  generous  protectress;  I  became  acquainted 
with  her  exertions,  and  I  poured  forth  my  gratitude  in  her  pre- 
sence. She  redoubled  her  anxiety,  and  resolved  to  brave  every- 
thing. Often,  on  the  same  day,  she  has  gone  to  Montmartre  to 
visit  her  infant,  which  was  placed  there  at  nurse,  and  then  came 
to  the  Bicetre  to  console  me  and  inform  me  of  her  progress.  At 
last,  after  three  years,  she  triumphed,  and  procured  my  liberty!" 

In  the  first  instance,  the  boon  of  liberty  could  not  be  said  to  be 
more  than  half  granted;  Latude  being  ordered  to  fix  his  abode 
at  Montagnac,  and  not  to  leave  the  town  without  the  permission 
of  the  police  officer  of  the  district.  As  his  fortune  was  entirely 
lost,  a  miserable  pension  of  four  hundred  livres  (about  J616)  was 
assigned  for  his  subsistence.  By  the  renewed  exertions  of  Madame 
Legros,  however,  the  decree  of  exile  was  rescinded,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  remain  at  Paris,  on  condition  of  his  never  appearing  in 
the  coffee-houses,  on  the  public  walks,  or  in  any  place  of  public 
amusement.  The  government  might  well  be  ashamed  that  such 
a  living  proof  of  its  injustice  should  be  contemplated  by  the  people. 

It  was  on  the  24th  of  March,  1784,  that  Latude  emerged  into 
the  world,  from  which  he  had  for  five-and-thirty  years  been 
secluded.  He  and  his  noble-minded  benefactress  were,  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  objects  of  general  curiosity.  Happily,  that  curiosity 
did  not  end  in  barren  pity  and  wonder,  but  proved  beneficial  to 
those  who  excited  it.  A  subscription  was  raised,  by  which  two 
annuities,  each  of  300  livres,  were  purchased,  one  for  Latude,  the 
other  for  his  deliverer.  Two  other  pensions,  of  600  livres  and 
100  crowns,  were  soon  after  granted  by  individuals  to  Madame 
Legros,  and  the  Montyon  gold  medal,  annually  given  as  the  prize 
of  virtue,  was  unanimously  adjudged  to  her  by  the  French  Aca- 
demy. The  income  of  Latude  also  obtained  some  increase ;  but 
it  was  not  till  1793  that  it  received  any  addition  of  importance  ; 
in  that  year  he  brought  an  action  against  the  heirs  of  the  Mar- 
chioness de  Pompadour,  arid  heavy  damages  were  awarded  to 
him.  Notwithstanding  the  severe  shocks  his  frame  had  under- 
gone, the  existence  of  Latude  was  protracted  till  1805,  when  he 
died  at  the  age  of  eighty. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  329 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Reign  of  Louis  XVI. — Enormous  number  of  Lettres-de-Cachet  issued  in  two 
reigns. — William  Debure  the  Elder. — Blaizot  imprisoned  for  obeying  the  King. 

— Pelisseri. — Prisoners  from  St.  Domingo. — Linguet Duvernet. — The  Count 

de  Parades. — Marquis  de  Sade. — Brissot. — The  Countess  de  la  Motte. — Cardi- 
nal de  Rohan. — Cagliostro. — The  affair  of  the  Diamond  Necklace. — Reveillon 
takes  shelter  in  the  Bastile. — Attack  and  capture  of  the  Bastile  by  the  Paris- 
ians.— Conclusion. 

THE  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  which,  as  far  as  regarded  himself,  was 
every  way  inglorious,  was  protracted  to  the  length  of  fifty-nine 
years;  a  duration  which  has  rarely  been  equaled.  Popular  en- 
thusiasm, or  rather  popular  folly — the  terms  are  often  synony- 
mous— at  one  time  conferred  on  him  the  title  of  "  the  Well-be- 
loved;" he  lived  to  be  sincerely  hated,  and  he  died  unlamented, 
except  by  such  of  his  flatterers  and  parasites  as  feared  that  they 
would  be  cast  off  by  a  new  monarch.  Of  the  enormous  amount 
of  private  misery  which,  during  the  period  of  his  sway,  he  must 
have  inflicted,  in  exercising  only  one  attribute  of  his  despotism, 
some  idea  may  be  formed,  from  the  circumstance  of  more  than 
150,000  lettres-de-cachet  having  been  issued  while  he  occupied 
the  throne ;  an  annual  average  of  more  than  2500.  How  many 
wives,  parents,  children  must  have  been  yearly  driven  to  despair 
by  this  atrocious  tyranny  !  Though  it  is  certain  that  the  prison- 
ers were  not  all  treated  with  the  same  brutality  as  Masers  de  La- 
tude,  the  mass  of  suffering  must,  nevertheless,  have  been  more 
than  can  be  contemplated  without  a  shudder  by  any  one  who  is 
not  dead  to  the  feelings  of  humanity. 

In  1774,  Louis  XVI.  ascended  the  throne.  He  was  a  perfect 
contrast  to  his  predecessor.  In  his  manners  there  was  little  of  the 
dignity  of  a  sovereign,  and  he  was  deficient  in  firmness  and  pene- 
tration ;  but,  pure  in  morals,  kind  in  heart,  and  honest  in  principle, 
he  was  unfeignedly  desirous  to  do  justice  to  his  people,  and  to 
contribute  to  their  welfare.  Yet,  so  difficult  is  it  to  uproot  a  long- 
established  abuse,  and  such  is  the  power  of  ministers  and  men  in 
office,  that,  even  under  the  government  of  this  well-meaning  king, 
no  fewer  than  14,000 lettres-de-cachet  are  said  to  have  been  granted 
in  the  fifteen  years  which  elapsed  between  the  accession  of  Louis 
and  the  meeting  of  the  States  General. 


330  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

The  very  first  instances  which  I  shall  bring  forward  of  the  use 
made  of  lettres-de-cachet,  in  this  reign,  will  afford  proof  of  the  un- 
principled and  arbitrary  spirit  of  the  men  who  held  authority. 
We  commence  with  William  Debure  the  elder,  one  of  the  most 
eminent  and  intelligent  of  the  Parisian  booksellers.  The  family 
of  the  Debures  carried  on,  from  father  to  son,  the  same  business 
in  Paris,  for  nearly  two  centuries.  The  subject  of  this  sketch  was 
in  habits  of  intimacy  with  the  most  distinguished  literary  charac- 
ters. His  catalogues  of  celebrated  libraries,  to  the  number  of 
forty-three,  are  much  esteemed.  At  the  time  of  his  decease,  in 
1820,  when  he  was  eighty-six,  he  was  the  oldest  bookseller  in 
France,  and  was  considered  as  the  patriarch  of  bibliography.  It 
was  in  1778  that  he  was  sent  to  the  Bastile.  In  1777,  the  Coun- 
cil of  State  thought  proper  to  issue  an  ordinance,  decreeing  that  the 
term  of  copyright  should  not  in  future  extend  beyond  the  time 
which  was  required  to  defray  the  expense  of  publishing.  The 
council  followed  this  up  by  another  ordinance,  authorizing  the 
sale  of  pirated  editions,  on  payment  of  a  stamp  duty.  These  acts, 
equally  absurd  and  unjust,  were,  in  fact,  licenses  to  commit  rob- 
bery upon  authors  and  publishers,  for  the  benefit  of  the  treasury, 
which  shared  the  spoil  with  the  robbers.  Debure  then  held  in 
his  company  the  place  of  syndic,  which  seems  to  be  analogous  to 
that  of  master  in  our  stationers'  company.  To  him  fell  the  task 
of  stamping  the  pirated  works.  Well  knowing  that  a  great  num- 
ber of  booksellers  would  inevitably  be  ruined  by  the  new  law, 
or  rather  violation  of  law,  which  the  council  had  promulgated, 
Debure  declined  to  comply  with  it,  and  desired  that  he  might  be 
allowed  to  resign.  His  resignation  was  not  accepted,  and  he  was 
thrice  summoned  to  proceed  to  the  stamping  of  the  spurious 
books ;  and  in  each  instance  the  significant  hint  was  thrown  out, 

"  Stamp,  or  if  you  do  not ."  Debure  remained  immovable, 

and  he  was  at  length  committed  to  the  Bastile.  The  ministers, 
however,  either  became  ashamed  of  their  conduct,  or,  which  is 
more  probable,  were  overruled  by  the  monarch  ;  for  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days,  he  recovered  his  liberty. 

Another  bookseller  is  said  to  have  been  punished  in  the  same 
manner,  for  the  extraordinary  offence  of  executing,  in  the  way  of 
trade,  an  order  which  was  given  to  him  by  his  sovereign.  Sus- 
pecting that  his  ministers  kept  him  in  ignorance  of  the  sentiments 
and  wishes  of  the  people,  Louis  determined  to  obtain  some  know- 
ledge of  them  from  another  quarter.  To  peruse  the  various  po- 
litical pamphlets  of  the  day  seemed  to  him  the  best  mode  of  ac- 
complishing his  purpose.  Accordingly,  he  directed  a  bookseller, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  331 


named  Blaizot,  to  send  them  regularly  and  secretly  to  a  certain 
place,  whence  they  were  to  be  conveyed  to  him.  This  was  done 
for  about  two  months.  Alarmed  to  find  the  king  possessed  of  so 
much  information,  upon  subjects  with  which  they  had  believed  him 
to  be  unacquainted,  the  ministers  set  to  work  to  discover  the  source 
of  it.  Either  Blaizot's  imprudence,  or  the  activity  of  their  spies, 
soon  made  them  masters  of  the  secret.  The  luckless  bookseller 
was  speedily  taught  that  there  was  an  influence  behind  the  throne 
which  was  greater  than  the  throne  itself.  The  Bastile  received 
him.  This  audacious  act  is  attributed  to  the  Baron  de  Breteuil ;  of 
whom,  however,  it  is  but  justice  to  state,  that  he  is  said  to  have  libe- 
rated many  prisoners,  and  much  ameliorated  the  -prison  discipline. 
But  he  was  at  times  harsh  and  impetuous,  and  may,  perhaps,  on  this 
occasion,  have  yielded  to  passion,  or  to  the  wish  of  his  colleagues. 
Surprised  by  the  customary  supply  of  pamphlets  being  abruptly 
stopped,  Louis  inquired  into  the  cause  of  it,  and  was  equally  as- 
tonished and  indignant  to  find  that  Blaizot  had  been  lodged  in 
the  Bastile,  by  virtue  of  one  of  those  laconic  billets  which  were 
signed  Louis,  and  countersigned  by  a  cabinet  minister.  Blajzot 
was  instantly  released,  and  the  Baron  de  Breteuil  was  reprimand- 
ed, in  the  severest  language,  by  his  offended  master. 

That  Breteuil,  highly  aristocratic  in  his  principles,  and  believ- 
ing the  established  order  of  things  to  be  perfection  itself,  should 
consider  it  as  a  matter  of  course  to  silence  all  opponents  by  means 
of  the  Bastile,  can  excite  no  wonder ;  but,  if  a  minister,  who 
sprang  from  the  people,  a  republican  by  birth,  and  a  professed 
friend  of  reform,  could  punish  by  imprisonment  a  man  who  ven- 
tured to  criticise  his  measures,  we  must  wonder  indeed!  Yet, 
if  M.  Linguet  was  not  misinformed,  such  a  case  did  actually 
happen.  He  tells  us  that,  while  he  was  in  the  Bastile,  there  was 
in  the  prison  a  captive  named  Pelisseri,  who  had  been  three  years 
in  confinement,  and  whose  sole  crime  was  that  he  had  made  some 
remarks  on  the  financial  operations  of  M.  Necker.  The  story  is 
not  probable.  With  some  important  faults,  the  minister  had  many 
virtues,  and  certainly  had  nothing  cruel  in  his  nature.  It  is  very 
likely  that  the  captivity  of  Pelisseri  was  the  work  of  some  secret 
enemy,  who  hated  both  him  and  Necker,  and  doubly  gratified  his 
vindictive  feelings,  by  incarcerating  the  one  and  calumniating  the 
other. 

The  agents  of  the  French  government  in  the  colonies  seem  not 
to  have  been  backward  in  following  the  example  of  tyranny  which 
was  set  to  them  by  their  superiors  at  home.  In  one  instance,  a 
governor  of  St.  Domingo,  who  had  quarreled  with  all  the  mem- 


332  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


bers  of  a  court  of  justice,  adopted  a  summary  mode  of  proceeding 
against  them.  He  shipped  the  whole  of  them,  and  sent  them  off 
lo  France  as  criminals.  On  their  arrival  they  were  placed  in  the 
Bastile,  and  kept  separate  from  each  other;  and  in  this  painful 
situation  they  remained  for  eight  months.  They  were  at  length 
pronounced  innocent,  and  were  conveyed  back  to  St.  Domingo ; 
but  they  received  not  the  slightest  compensation  for  more  than  a 
year's  endurance  of  bodily  and  mental  suffering. 

The  Bastile  received,  in  September,  1780,  a  man  whose  talents 
were  more  worthy  of  praise  than  his  temper.  This  was  Simon 
Nicholas  Henry  Linguet,  a  native  of  Rheims,  who  was  born  in 
1736.  He  was  learned,  acute,  and  eloquent  both  in  speech 
and  writing ;  but  paradoxical,  changeful,  suspicious,  violent,  and 
wrong-headed.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  gained  the  three  high- 
est university  prizes.  After  having  visited  Poland  with  the  Duke 
of  Deux-Ponts,  and  Portugal  with  the  Prince  de  Beauveau,  he 
commenced  his  literary  career  by  a  History  of  the  Times  of 
Alexander  the  Great.  Disappointed  by  D'Alembert,  in  his  wish 
to  obtain  a  seat  in  the  French  Academy,  he  became  an  invete- 
rate enemy  of  D'Alembert  and  the  party  which  was  called  the 
philosophical.  His  works  succeeded  each  other  with  uncommon 
rapidity;  the  most  remarkable  of  those  which  he  published  at 
this  period  are,  the  History  of  the  Revolutions  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  the  Theory  of  Civil  Laws.  Both  these  works, 
which  in  many  respects  have  great  merit,  excited  a  loud  clamour, 
especially  the  latter,  by  the  leaning  which  they  manifest  towards 
despotism.  Linguet  had  soon  reason  to  change  his  opinion  on 
this  subject. 

The  literary  labours  of  Linguet  might  seem  sufficient  to  oc- 
cupy all  his  time  ;  but  the  fact  was  not  so.  He  was  all  the  while 
a  barrister  in  extensive  practice.  In  splendid  eloquence,  and  in 
the  successful  management  of  causes,  he  had  few  if  any  rivals. 
He  boasted  that  he  never  lost  more  than  two  causes,  "and  those," 
said  he,  "I  had  a  strong  inclination  to  lose."  It  was  mainly  by 
his  efforts  that  the  obnoxious  Duke  d'Aiguillon  escaped  from 
deserved  punishment.  The  duke  proved  ungrateful,  and  his  irri- 
tated counselor  wrote  him  word  that  he  had  "stolen  him  from 
the  scaffold,"  and  that,  if  the  peer  did  not  do  what  was  right  with 
regard  to  his  advocate,  "  he  would  keep  him  hanging  for  ten 
years  at  the  point  of  his  pen."  D'Aiguillon  thought  it  prudent 
to  yield,  but  he  took  care  to  avenge  himself  in  the  end.  The 
lucrative  career  of  Linguet,  as  a  barrister,  was  suddenly  brought 
to  a  close  by  his  brethren  of  the  bar,  some  of  whom  envied  his 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  333 

superior  gains,  and  all  of  whom  had  been  irritated  by  his  violent 
and  sarcastic  language.  They  refused  to  plead  with  him,  and 
the  parliament  sanctioned  this  resolution,  and  expunged  his  name 
from  the  roll  of  counselors. 

Shut  out  from  forensic  honours  and  emoluments,  Linguet  de- 
voted himself  to  literature  and  politics.  He  began  to  publish  a 
journal  in  1774,  but,  in  1776,  it  was  suppressed  by  the  minister 
Maurepas.  Apprehensive  for  his  liberty,  he  quitted  France,  and 
successively  resided  in  Switzerland,  Holland,  and  England.  It 
was  in  1777,  while  he  was  in  exile,  that  he  established  his  well- 
known  work,  the  Political,  Civil,  and  Literary  Annals  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century,  which  forms  nineteen  volumes.  The  Count 
de  Vergennes  gave  him  permission  to  return  to  France;  but 
scarcely  had  he  availed  himself  of  it  ere  he  was  shut  up  in  the 
Bastile,  where  he  continued  for  above  two  years.  On  his  release 
he  settled  at  Brussels,  and  gained  the  good  will  of  the  Emperor 
Joseph,  which,  however,  he  soon  lost,  by  espousing  the  party  of 
the  Belgian  revolutionists.  In  1791  he  returned  to  France.  Dur- 
ing the  Reign  of  Terror,  he  withdrew  into  retirement.  He  was, 
however,  unable  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  Jacobins;  he  was 
sent  by  them  before  the  revolutionary  tribunal,  which,  without 
suffering  him  to  make  any  defence,  condemned  him  to  death,  and 
he  was  accordingly  executed  in  the  summer  of  1794. 

While  Linguet  was  in  the  Bastile,  one  of  his  opponents  was 
sharing  the  same  fate,  though  for  a  much  shorter  term.  Duver- 
net,  an  ecclesiastic,  published  a  pamphlet,  anonymously,  in  1781, 
in  which  he  indulged  his  wit  at  the  expense  of  Linguet,  D'Es- 
prernenil,  and  other  well-known  characters.  This  he  might  have 
done  with  impunity;  but  he  also  attacked  the  government;  and 
the  government,  in  return,  sent  him  to  the  Bastile  for  three  weeks, 
to  learn  prudence.  The  lesson  was  thrown  away  upon  him;  for, 
soon  after  his  release,  he  ventured  to  animadvert  upon  the  conduct 
of  the  Count  de  Maurepas,  and  was  again  lodged  in  the  Bastile. 
His  confinement  lasted  longer  than  in  the  first  instance;  and  he 
availed  himself  of  this  compulsory  leisure  to  write  a  life  of  Vol- 
taire. The  minister  of  police  detained  the  manuscript;  but  the 
work,  nevertheless,  found  its  way  into  print  in  1786,  and  had 
such  an  extensive  sale,  that  the  French  bishops  took  the  alarm, 
and  commissioned  the  keeper  of  the  seals  to  complain  to  the  king. 
Louis  XVI.,  however,  replied,  "I  will  not  meddle  with  this  affiair; 
if  Duvernet  is  wrong,  let  him  be  refuted, — that  is  the  business  of 
the  bishops."  The  author  afterwards  enlarged  and  remodeled 


334  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

his  work;  but  he  died  in  1796,  the  year  before  the  new  edition 
was  published. 

Another  prisoner,  who  was  also  cotemporary  with  Linguet  in 
the  Bastile,  was  an  individual  of  mysterious  origin  and  conduct, 
who  ought  to  have  found  a  place  in  an  English  prison  rather  than 
in  a  French  one.  This  was  a  person  who  assumed  the  title  of 
the  Count  de  Parades.  He  himself  claimed  to  be  descended  from 
an  ancient  Spanish  family  of  the  same  name  ;  some  affirmed  him 
to  be  the  natural  son  of  a  Count  de  Parades  ;  but  he  was  gene- 
rally believed  to  be  of  far  humbler  origin,  the  offspring  of  a  pastry- 
cook named  Richards  who  resided  at  Phalsburg.  Of  his  early 
life  nothing  is  known ;  it  is  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  that  we  find 
him  entering  on  bis  public  career;  and  by  some  means  or  other, 
he  contrived  to  procure  an  extremely  flattering  reception  at  the 
French  court.  Fearing  that  he  was  too  old  to  attain  elevated  rank 
in  the  military  profession,  he  looked  about  for  another  road  to  for- 
tune, and  thought  he  had  found  it  in  adopting  the  perilous  and 
undignified  occupation  of  a  spy.  France  was  at  that  period 
secretly  preparing  for  hostilities  against  England,  the  revolt  of 
the  British  American  colonies  seeming  to  afford  her  a  favourable 
opportunity  of  taking  vengeance  for  the  defeats  and  disgrace  which 
she  had  suffered  in  the  seven  years'  war.  Deeming  this  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity  to  bring  himself  forward,  Parades  voluntarily 
visited  England,  where  he  gathered  some  valuable  in  formation  rela- 
tive to  its  arsenals,  ports,  and  naval  and  military  establishments. 
The  memorial  which,  on  his  return,  he  presented  to  Sartine,  the 
French  minister  of  marine,  was  so  much  approved  of,  that  he  was 
dispatched  to  procure  further  particulars.  He  was  so  successful 
in  his  inquiries,  that  he  was  regularly  engaged  as  a  spy  by  Sar- 
tine, and  was  profusely  supplied  with  the  means  to  purchase  the 
services  of  British  traitors.  Parades  was  not  idle  ;  he  bribed 
highly,  and,  if  his  own  assertion  may  be  credited,  he  found  no 
difficulty  in  corrupting  many  clerks  and  officers  of  an  inferior 
class.  Though  he  may  have  exaggerated  in  this  respect,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  there  were  too  many  base-minded  wretches 
who  were  willing  to  sell  their  country.  This  fact  is  established 
by  the  circumstances  which  came  out  on  the  trial  of  La  Motte, 
his  less  fortunate  successor.  Parades  reconnoitered  all  the  English 
and  Irish  ports.  In  a  part  of  his  journeys  he  was  accompanied  by 
an  officer  of  engineers,  and  they  were  several  times  in  the  utmost 
danger  of  being  discovered.  For  the  purpose  of  keeping  up  an 
intercourse  with  the  French  ministry,  he  fitted  out  a  vessel,  and 
had  a  regular  establishment  of  messengers ;  the  vessel  served  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  335 


double  purpose  of  trading  and  conveying  his  dispatches.  Many 
of  the  communications  which  he  made  were  highly  important; 
he  complains,  in  his  memoirs,  that  some  of  them,  which  would 
have  enabled  France  to  strike  fatal  blows,  were  unaccountably 
neglected.  One  of  his  projects  was  to  set  fire  to  the  British  fleet 
in  the  harbour  of  Portsmouth.  His  services  were  not  unrewarded ; 
he  was  pensioned,  and  appointed  a  colonel  of  cavalry.  In  the 
short  time  that  he  had  been  acting  his  part,  he  had  also  contrived 
to  amass  about  35,000/.  by  speculations  in  commerce  and  the 
funds,  and  perhaps  by  pocketing  a  heavy  per  centage  on  the  re- 
mittances from  the  French  ministry.  Nearly  30,000/.  was  sent 
to  him  by  his  employers,  and  it  is  obvious  that,  as  to  the  disburse- 
ment of  it,  they  could  have  no  check  whatever  upon  him.  It  was 
with  a  scheme  for  seizing  upon  Plymouth  that  he  closed  his 
career  as  a  spy.  In  that  port  he  either  had,  or  pretended  to  have 
emissaries,  and  to  have  corrupted  a  serjeant  and  several  soldiers 
of  the  feeble  garrison.  It  was  in  pursuance  of  this  plan  that 
D'Orvilliers,  with  the  combined  French  and  Spanish  squadrons, 
consisting  of  sixty-five  sail,  entered  the  Channel.  It  is  notorious 
that  Plymouth  was  then  in  an  extremely  imperfect  state  of  de- 
fence, and  would  have  been  much  endangered  by  a  vigorous 
attack.  Fortunately,  however,  D'Orvilliers,  in  spite  of  remon- 
strances of  Parades,  declined  to  make  an  attempt  upon  the  place. 
Parades  now  visited  France,  and  immediately  received  instruc- 
tions to  return  to  England ;  but,  before  he  could  depart,  his  adven- 
turous occupation  was  brought  to  an  abrupt  close.  He  is  said  to 
have  been  suspected  of  playing  the  Janus-faced  traitor,  equally 
bribed  by  England  and  by  France.  The  suspicion,  though  natural, 
was  probably  unjust,  and  may  have  been  prompted  by  the  friends 
of  those  officers  whom  he  had  accused  of  missing  favourable 
opportunities.  He  was  committed  to  the  Bastile  in  April  1780, 
and  was  not  liberated  till  April  1781.  He  was  allowed  to  have 
what  books  he  pleased,  to  carry  on  a  free  correspondence,  and  to 
be  visited  by  his  friends.  The  presumptions  against  him  could 
not  have  been  strong ;  if  they  had  been  so,  he  would  have  been 
rigorously  treated,  and  permanently  confined.  For  three  years 
after  he  was  set  free,  Parades  continued  to  press  the  government 
for  the  payment  of  25,000/.,  which  he  asserted  to  be  due  to  him. 
The  war,  however,  had  exhausted  the  French  treasury,  and  he 
consequently  solicited  in  vain.  In  1784  he  sailed  to  St.  Domingo, 
where  he  had  purchased  an  estate,  and  he  died  there  in  the  course 
of  the  following  year. 

He  who  appears  next  on  the  list  of  captives  was  a  man — if  in- 


336  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

deed  the  name  of  man  is  not  misapplied  to  him — whose  crimes 
were  of  so  dark  a  dye  that  to  imprison  him  for  them  was  unjust, 
solely  because  it  was  nothing  less  than  assisting  him  to  evade  the 
punishment  which  justice  would  have  inflicted  on  him.  This 
abandoned  individual  has  been  correctly  described  by  a  French 
writer,  "as  the  profound  villain  named  the  Marquis  de  Sade,who, 
by  his  atrocious  examples,  and  his  equally  horrible  writings,  proved 
himself  to  be  the  apostle  of  every  crime, — of  assassination,  of 
poisoning, — and  the  enemy  of  all  social  order;  this  monster  spent 
great  part  of  his  life  in  prison,  and  was  twenty  times  saved  from 
the  scaffold  by  his  title  of  marquis." 

The  Marquis  de  Sade,  who  was  descended  from  an  ancient 
family  of  the  Comtat  Venaissin,  was  born  at  Paris,  in  1740.  He 
embraced  the  military  profession,  and  served  in  all  the  German  cam- 
paigns of  the  seven  years'  war.  In  1706,  he  married  an  amiable 
and  virtuous  woman,  to  whom  he  proved  a  perpetual  source  of 
wretchedness.  A  sense  of  duty  induced  her,  for  a  considerable 
period,  to  aid  in  extricating  him  from  the  difficulties  in  which  he 
involved  himself,  but  she  was  finally  obliged  to  give  him  up.  In 
the  same  year  that  he  was  united  to  her,  one  of  his  infamous  ad- 
ventures caused  him  to  be  imprisoned  and  exiled;  and  no  sooner 
was  he  allowed  to  return  to  Paris  than  he  took  an  actress  into 
keeping,  carried  her  to  Provence,  and  introduced  her  as  his  wife 
to  the  gentry  around  his  mansion.  These,  however,  were  merely 
the  venial  offences  of  Sade.  His  criminality  took  a  far  higher 
flight.  In  1778,  he  would  have  fallen  a  victim  to  the  justice  of 
his  country,  for  horrible  cruelty  to  a  female,  had  he  not  been 
snatched  from  it  by  a  lettre-de-cachet,  which  confined  him  for  a 
time  at  Saumur,  whence  he  was  removed  to  Pierre-Encise. 

This  danger  did  not  operate  as  a  warning  to  him.  At  Mar- 
seilles, in  1772,  in  company  with  his  valet,  who  was  the  com- 
panion of  his  debaucheries,  he  acted  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
parliament  of  Aix  prosecuted  him  and  his  servant,  and  ultimately 
pronounced  them  guilty  of  unnatural  acts  and  of  poisoning;  the 
persons  poisoned  are  said  to  have  been  two  loose  women,  to  whom 
they  administered  stimulants  of  the  most  dangerous  kinds.  Sade 
took  flight,  but  was  seized  in  Savoy  by  the  King  of  Sardinia,  and 
sent  to  the  Castle  of  Miolans.  He  made  his  escape  from  the  cas- 
tle, and  concealed  himself  in  Paris,  where,  in  1777,  he  was  dis- 
covered, and  sent  to  Vincennes.  He  escaped,  was  retaken,  was 
lodged  again  at  Vincennes,  and  was  treated  with  great  rigour  for 
two  years.  In  1784,  he  was  transferred  to  the  Bastile. 

At  Vincennes  and  the  Bastile  he  wrote  the  earliest  of  those 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  337 

works  which  alone  would  suffice  to  brand  his  name  with  indelible 
infamy.  It  is  truly  said  of  them,  that  "  everything  the  most  mon- 
strous and  revolting,  that  can  be  dreamt  by  the  most  frenzied,  ob- 
scene, and  sanguinary  imagination,  seems  to  be  combined  in  these 
works,  the  mere  conception  of  which  ought  to  be  looked  upon  as  a 
crime  against  social  order."  Sade  was  a  voluminous  writer,  and 
produced  many  other  works,  plays,  romances,  verses,  and  mis- 
cellanies, which  have  never  seen  the  light. 

At  the  Bastile,  but  a  short  time  before  the  attack  on  it,  he  quar- 
reled with  the  governor,  and,  by  means  of  a  sort  of  speaking- 
trumpet,  harangued  the  passengers  in  St.  Anthony's  Street,  and 
endeavoured  to  excite  them  to  arms.  For  this  he  was  sent  off  to 
Charenton.  In  1790,  the  decree  of  the  National  Assembly,  which 
liberated  all  the  victims  of  lettres-de-cachet,  put  an  end  to  his  im- 
prisonment, after  it  had  continued  for  thirteen  years.  Sade  was 
a  partisan  of  the  revolution,  in  its  worst  aspect ;  but  even  the  re- 
volutionists of  1793  shrank  from  contact  with  so  foul  a  being. 
He  was  arrested  by  them,  and  for  nearly  a  year  was  an  inmate  of 
various  prisons.  After  this,  he  remained  at  large  till  the  reins  of 
government  were  assumed  by  Napoleon.  The  first  consul  put  a 
stop,  in  1801,  to  the  publication  of  Sade's  works,  and  sent  him  to 
St.  Pelagic ;  from  that  prison  he  was  removed  to  Charenton,  in 
1803,  and  there  he  spent  his  days  till  the  close  of  his  dishonoured 
existence  in  1814,  when  he  was  seventy-five  years  of  age.  To 
the  very  last  his  detestable  doctrines  and  habits  experienced  not 
the  slightest  change. 

One  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  French  revolutionists,  from 
whom  a  considerable  party  took  its  denomination,  was  among  the 
latest  prisoners  of  the  Bastile.  John  Peter  Brissot  was  born  in 
1754,  at  the  village  of  Ouarville,  near  Chartres,  where  his  father, 
who  was  a  pastry-cook  in  Chartres,  had  a  trifling  property.  It 
was  from  his  native  place,  the  name  of  which  he  anglicised,  that 
he  afterwards  styled  himself  Brisset  de  Warville.  He  received 
a  good  education,  and,  as  he  also  read  with  great  avidity,  he  ac- 
cumulated a  large  stock  of  miscellaneous  but  undigested  know- 
ledge. In  the  English  language  he  acquired  a  proficiency  which 
was  unusual  among  Frenchmen  at  that  period,  and  his  study  of 
it  contributed  powerfully  to  give  his  sentiments  a  republican  tinge ; 
for  he  dwelt  with  delight  on  the  characters  of  the  great  men  who 
withstood  the  tyranny  of  Charles  the  First.  Brissot  was  placed 
in  an  attorney's  office  at  Paris ;  and  it  is  a  curious  circumstance, 
that  one  of  his  fellow-clerks  was  Robespierre,  who  afterwards  be- 
came his  deadly  political  foe.  In  two  years  Brissot  got  tired  of 
22 


338  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

legal  drudgery,  and  determined  to  look  to  literature  for  subsist- 
ence. His  first  essay  was  a  satire,  which  he  subsequently  owned 
to  contain  much  injustice,  and  for  which  he  narrowly  escaped 
being  lodged  in  the  Bastile.  A  pamphlet  which  he  published 
attracted  the  notice  of  Swinton,  an  Englishman,  a  man  utterly 
devoid  of  honourable  feelings,  who  engaged  him  to  superintend 
the  reprinting  of  the  Courier  de  1'Europe,  at  Boulogne.  This 
engagement  was  soon  terminated;  and  Brissot,  who  had  received 
two  hundred  pounds  on  his  father's  death,  purchased  the  neces- 
sary titles  for  practicing  at  the  bar.  The  money  thus  laid  out 
was  thrown  away,  he  being  soon  compelled  to  resign  all  hope  of 
succeeding  as  an  advocate.  His  next  scheme,  of  the  success  of 
which  he  did  not  allow  himself  to  doubt,  was  to  establish  in  the 
British  capital  a  Lyceum,  which  was  to  serve  as  a  point  of  union 
to  literary  men  of  all  countries,  and  was  to  carry  on  a  universal 
correspondence  with  them,  and  to  issue  a  periodical  work  for  the 
more  wide  diffusion  of  English  literature.  As  might  have  been 
foreseen,  this  magnificent  institution,  of  which  he  was  of  course  to 
be  the  presiding  genius,  proved  to  be  nothing  more  than  an  abor- 
tion. Instead  of  reaping  fame  and  profit  from  the  periodical, 
Brissot  found  that  no  one  would  buy  it,  and  he  was  arrested  and 
imprisoned  by  the  printer.  Having,  however,  contrived  to  get 
free,  he  returned  penniless  to  France  in  1784,  where  another 
prison  was  ready  to  receive  him.  Merely,  it  is  said,  because  he 
had  spoken  lightly  of  the  works  of  D'Aguesseau,  he  was  sent  to 
the  Bastile.  Others  attribute  his  imprisonment  to  the  malice  of 
his  inveterate  and  unprincipled  enemy  Morande,  who  accused 
him  of  having  written  a  libel,  entitled  le  Diable  a  duatre,  which 
was  from  the  pen  of  the  Marquis  de  Pelleport.  Through  the  in- 
fluence of  Madame  de  Genlis,  Brissot  was  released  at  the  expira- 
tion of  two  months.  This  visit  to  the  Bastile  was  not  calculated 
to  diminish  his  republican  fervour.  That  fervour  was  no  doubt 
much  increased  by  his  visit  to  the  United  States,  whither  he  went 
early  in  1788,  and  whence  he  returned  in  the  following  year. 

Brissot,  on  his  return,  threw  himself  with  all  his  heart  and  soul 
into  the  Revolution.  His  mind  was  heated  by  the  reading  of  an- 
cient and  modern  writers,  who  have  held  up  republican  heroes  to 
our  admiration,  and  it  was  irritated  by  wrongs  which  arbitrary 
power  had  inflicted ;  and  he  rashly  and  illogically  concluded,  that 
under  a  monarchy  it  was  impossible  for  liberty  to  exist.  Such 
was  the  case,  also,  with  many  of  the  talented,  eloquent,  and  warm- 
hearted men  who,  acting  in  concert  with  him,  were  known  by  the 
title  of  Brissotins  and  Girondists.  No  one  who  has  attentively 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  339 

perused  the  numerous  documents  relative  to  the  French  revolu- 
tion can  deny  that,  at  a  moment  when,  according  to  their  own 
confession,  there  was  not  a  handful  of  republicans  in  France,  the 
Brissotins  had  determined  to  subvert  the  monarchical  government 
and  establish  their  favourite  system.  It  is  as  certain,  too,  that 
they  were  not  delicate  in  the  choice  of  means,  and  that  truth  was 
not  allowed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  their  designs.  Believing  a 
republican  order  of  things  to  be  the  perfection  of  human  wisdom, 
they  seem  to  have  thought  that,  "  to  do  a  great  right,  they  might 
do  a  little  wrong."  They  were  soon  taught  by  woeful  experience 
that  the  strict  rule  of  right  can  never  be  violated  without  danger; 
and  that,  however  good  his  intentions  may  be,  he  who  does  a  little 
wrong  opens  the  way  for  the  commission  of  the  worst  of  crimes. 

Brissot  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Parisian  Common  Council, 
an  assembly  which,  in  less  than  four  years,  became  infamous  for 
its  ferocious  and  sanguinary  proceedings.  It  must  have  been 
gratifying  to  his  feelings,  that  one  of  the  first  acts  which  it  fell  to 
his  lot  to  perform,  was  to  receive  the  keys  of  the  Bastile.  He 
now  established  a  newspaper  called  the  French  Patriot,  in  which 
he  made  daily  violent  attacks  on  the  monarch,  the  ministers,  and 
all  the  institutions  of  the  state.  It  was  he  who,  in  conjunction 
with  Laclos,  after  the  flight  of  Louis  XVI.  to  Varennes,  drew  up 
the  petition  which  called  on  the  Constituent  Assembly  to  depose 
the  king,  and  which  gave  rise  to  a  riot  that  cost  some  blood.  At 
the  period  when  the  election  of  members  to  the  Legislative  As- 
sembly was  going  forward,  the  court  exerted  itself  to  prevent  him 
from  being  chosen  a  representative.  Its  misdirected  efforts,  how- 
ever, as  was  the  case  in  many  other  instances,  only  produced  a 
diametrically  opposite  effect  to  that  which  was  intended  ;  the  at- 
tention of  the  electors  was  directed  to  Brissot,  and  he  was  unani- 
mously returned  as  one  of  the  Parisian  members. 

Brissot  was  nominated  a  member  of  the  diplomatic  committee, 
and  its  reports  were  almost  uniformly  drawn  up  by  him.  It  was 
principally  by  his  exertions  that  a  war  was  brought  about  with 
Austria;  his  purpose  in  producing  that  war  was  to  forward  the 
dethroning  of  the  king.  In  the  Legislative  Assembly  he,  for  a 
while,  enjoyed  great  popularity,  and  he  availed  himself  of  it  to 
batter  in  breach  the  tottering  fabric  of  the  monarchy.  But  the 
Jacobins,  meanwhile,  with  Robespierre  at  their  head,  all  animated 
by  a  deadly  hatred  of  Brissot  and  his  friends,  were  gradually 
gaining  influence;  and,  in  proportion  as  they  won  over  the  popu- 
lace and  the  most  hot-headed  of  the  legislators,  the  power  of  Bris- 
sot declined.  For  a  moment  he  meditated  making  common  cause 


340  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

with  the  constitutional  royalists,  in  order  to  avert  the  disastrous 
consequences  which  he  began  to  dread  would  ensue,  in  case  the 
Jacobins  should  triumph.  The  plan,  however,  was  abandoned. 
In  the  revolution  of  the  10th  of  August  he  did  not  participate; 
Danton  was  the  prime  mover  in  that  transaction.  The  depart- 
ment of  the  Eure  deputed  Brissot  to  the  convention;  and  thence- 
forth, with  a  few  exceptions,  his  conduct  was  prudent  and  mode- 
rate. From  the  moment  that  he  and  his  friends  took  their  seats, 
they  were  daily  and  furiously  assailed  by  the  Jacobins.  They 
maintained  the  contest  for  several  months,  but  they  were  finally 
overthrown,  and  the  majority  of  them  perished  on  the  scaffold. 
Brissot  was  put  to  death  on  the  31st  of  October,  1793,  and  met 
his  fate  as  calmly  as  though  he  had  only  been  ascending  the  tri- 
bune to  read  a  report  to  his  late  colleagues.  The  few  tears  which 
he  shed  during  his  imprisonment  were  not  for  himself;  they  were 
wrung  from  him  by  the  agonizing  thought  that  he  must  leave  a 
beloved  wife  and  children  in  a  state  of  destitution. 

The  last  prisoners  that  remain  to  be  noticed,  owed  their  resi- 
dence in  the  Bastile  to  an  affair  which  excited  the  public  attention 
in  an  extraordinary  degree,  and  contributed  greatly  to  render  the 
Queen  of  France  an  object  of  suspicion  and  unpopularity.  This 
was  the  affair  of  the  diamond  necklace,  in  which  the  principal 
part  was  played  by  the  Countess  de  la  Motte.  The  countess,  and 
a  brother  and  sister,  were  descendants  of  Henry  de  St.  Remi,  a 
natural  son  of  Henry  II.,  but  her  family  had  been  reduced  to 
beggary.  The  three  children,  two  of  whom  she  had  found  asking 
alms,  were  taken  under  the  protection  of  the  Marchioness  of 
Boulainvilliers,  who  charitably  brought  them  up  at  her  own  ex- 
pense. D'Hozier,  the  eminent  genealogist,  having  ascertained 
that  they  really  sprang  from  the  house  of  Valois,  the  Duke  of 
Brancas  presented  to  the  queen  a  memorial  in  their  favour,  and  a 
small  pension  was  in  consequence  granted  to  each  of  them. 

In  1780,  Jane,  the  eldest,  married  the  Count  de  la  Motte,  who 
was  one  of  the  guards  of  the  Count  d'Artois.  Their  united  re 
sources  being  exceedingly  scanty,  the  countess  looked  about  for 
the  means  of  improving  them  at  the  cost  of  some  dupe.  She  had 
a  prepossessing  appearance,  fluency  of  speech,  and  considerable 
talents  for  intrigue,  masked  by  a  semblance  of  openness  and  can- 
dour. The  personage  whom  she  selected  to  try  her  experiment 
on,  was  the  Cardinal  Prince  de  Rohan,  Bishop  of  Strasburgh,  who 
was  then  in  his  fiftieth  year.  Rohan,  though  a  bishop  and  a  car- 
dinal, did  not  think  it  necessary  to  assume  even  the  appearance 
of  decorum  and  virtue.  He  was  weak,  vain,  dissolute,  presump- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  341 

tuous,  and  extravagant.  For  a  long  time  he  had  been  in  great 
disfavour  with  Maria  Antoinetta,  the  Queen  of  France.  She,  as 
well  as  her  mother,  the  empress  -queen,  had  been  disgusted  by 
his  unseemly  conduct,  some  years  before  this,  while  he  was  am- 
bassador at  Vienna,  and  the  queen's  disgust  was  heightened  by 
his  indiscreet  language  respecting  her,  and  by  the  insulting  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  spoken  of  her  mother,  in  a  letter  to  the  Duke 
d'Aiguillon.  She,  however,  did  not  interfere  to  prevent  his  ob- 
taining several  ill-deserved  appointments  from  the  government, 
but  she  manifested  her  resentment  by  refusing  to  admit  him  into 
her  presence,  and  by  expressing  her  unbounded  contempt  of  him. 
Rohan  was  in  despair  at  not  being  admitted  into  the  'society  of 
the  queen.  All  that  he  enjoyed  seemed  worthless,  while  he  was 
denied  that  privilege.  It  was  on  this  egregious  weakness  that 
Madame  de  la  Motte  founded  her  hopes  of  success.  The  de- 
ceiver acted  her  part  with  much  skill;  she  gradually  led  the 
besotted  cardinal  to  believe  that  she  had  acquired  the  queen's 
entire  confidence,  and  could  exercise  great  influence  over  her. 
She  was,  therefore,  obviously  the  fittest  person  to  bring  about 
the  reconciliation  for  which  he  was  so  eager.  The  countess 
readily  undertook  to  be  the  mediator.  Week  after  week  she 
deluded  him  by  tales  of  her  pleadings  to  the  queen,  and  of  the 
slow  but  sure  progress  that  she  made  in  restoring  him  to  the 
royal  favour.  At  last  he  was  told,  that  though  the  queen  had 
forgiven  him,  there  were  reasons  why  she  could  not  alter  her 
behaviour  towards  him  at  court,  and  that  all  intercourse  between 
them  must  be  carried  on  through  the  medium  of  Madame  de  la 
Motte.  Billets,  forged  by  a  M.  Villette,  now  began  to  be  ad- 
dressed to  him  in  her  Majesty's  name ;  twice  the  writer  requested 
a  loan  from  Rohan,  and  the  request  was  granted  by  the  delighted 
dupe.  To  lure  him  on  still  further,  he  was  informed,  that  Maria 
Antoinetta  would  admit  him  to  an  interview  at  night,  in  the  Bois 
du  Boulogne.  To  play  this  character,  a  lady  of  easy  virtue, 
named  d'Oliva,  whose  person  and  voice  resembled  the  queen's, 
was  tutored  by  La  Motte.  The  cardinal  saw  her  for  a  moment, 
and  was  in  raptures,  but  he  had  not  time  to  express  them  before 
the  nocturnal  farce  was  put  an  end  to  by  a  preconcerted  interrup- 
tion. This  last  fraud  having  raised  the  infatuation  of  the  car- 
dinal to  the  highest  pitch,  measures  were  taken  to  turn  his  folly 
to  advantage.  There  was  in  the  hands  of  Bcehmer  and  Bos- 
sanjre,  the  court  jewelers,  a  splendid  diamond  necklace,  valued  at 
1,800,000  francs,  which  the  queen  had  recently  declined  to  pur- 
chase, on  the  ground  that  it  was  too  expensive.  It  was  this  rich 


342  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

prize  which  La  Motte  had  in  view.  To  get  possession  of  it  she 
made  Rohan  her  tool;  she  succeeded  in  making  him  believe — for 
his  fund  of  credulity  appears  lo  have  been  inexhaustible — that 
the  queen  was  extremely  desirous  to  be  mistress  of  the  necklace; 
but  that,  as  she  did  not  choose  to  be  seen  in  the  affair,  she  wished 
him  to  negotiate  for  her,  and  to  purchase  it  on  his  own  credit.  A 
forged  authority  from  Maria  Antoinetta,  was  produced  in  support 
of  this  fiction.  Rohan  rushed  blindly  into  the  snare;  he  bought 
the  necklace,  giving  for  it  four  bills,  payable  at  intervals  of  six 
months,  which  the  jewelers  consented  to  receive,  on  his  showing 
them  the  paper  authorizing  him  to  treat  with  them.  Another 
forged  document,  bearing  the  queen's  signature,  enabled  Madame 
de  la  Motte  to  get  the  necklace  into  her  own  possession.  Her 
husband  is  said  to  have  been  immediately  sent  off  to  London,  to 
dispose  of  a  part  of  the  diamonds. 

When  the  first  bill  became  due  it  was  dishonoured,  for  Rohan 
had  no  money,  and  had  relied  upon  receiving  the  amount  from 
the  queen.  The  alarmed  jewelers  hastened  to  the  palace  to  re- 
monstrate with  her  majesty  on  the  subject.  The  queen  was  indig- 
nant and  astonished  at  the  story  which  they  told.  Cardinal  de 
Rohan,  the  Countess  de  la  Motte,  and  some  others,  were  arrested 
and  conveyed  to  the  Bastile.  The  Parliament  was  charged  with 
the  trial  of  the  prisoners.  The  trial  was  not  brought  to  a  con- 
clusion till  the  31st  of  May,  1786.  Rohan  was  acquitted,  but 
Madame  de  la  Motte  was  sentenced  to  make  the  amende  honour- 
able, to  be  branded  on  both  shoulders,  and  publicly  whipped,  and 
be  confined  for  the  rest  of  her  days  in  the  prison  of  the  Salpe- 
triere.  Villette,  the  forger,  and  d'Etionville,  his  accomplice,  were 
condemned  to  the  galleys  for  life.  After  having  undergone  the 
ignominious  part  of  her  sentence  the  countess  contrived  to  escape, 
and  joined  her  husband  in  London,  where  she  died  in  1791. 

Rohan,  though  acquitted,  was  compelled  by  the  king  to  resign 
the  office  of  high  almoner,  and  the  Order  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
was  exiled  to  one  of  his  abbeys.  In  the  early  part  of  the  Revo- 
lution, he  fora  short  time  seemed  friendly  to  it;  but  his  aristo- 
cratic feelings  soon  getting  the  upper  hand,  he  became  one  of  its 
most  inveterate  enemies,  and  strained  every  nerve  to  forward  the 
designs  of  the  emigrants.  He  died  in  Germany,  in  1803. 

Besides  La  Motte  and  Rohan,  there  were  committed  to  the 
Bastile  some  subordinate  actors  in  the  affair  of  the  diamond  neck- 
lace, and  also  a  singular  adventurer,  who  was  known  to  the 
world  under  the  title  of  Count  Cagliostro.  The  count  himself, 
while  he  threw  a  veil  of  mystery  over  his  birth,  appeared  to  claim 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  343 

an  oriental  and  illustrious  origin ;  but  his  enemies  assert  that  his 
real  name  was  Joseph  Balsamo,  and  that  he  was  the  son  of  poor 
parents  at  Palermo,  where  he  was  born  in  1743.  They  repre- 
sent him,  too,  as  a  degraded  being,  sometimes  living  by  the  sale 
of  chemical  compositions,  sometimes  by  swindling,  and,  still  more 
frequently,  by  the  prostitution  of  a  handsome  wife.  Yet  it  is 
certain  that,  in  his  travels  over  the  largest  portion  of  Europe,  he 
gained  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  many  distinguished  cha- 
racters. That  he  was  a  man  of  talents  is  undeniable;  his  person 
and  manners  were  attractive ;  he  was  acquainted  with  most  of  the 
European  and  Asiatic  languages;  his  knowledge  is  said  to  have 
been  extensive,  and  he  had  a  powerful  flow  of  eloquence.  Where 
he  procured  the  funds  by  which  he  kept  up  the  appearance  of  a 
man  of  distinction,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  ascertain.  He  was 
intimate  with  Cardinal  de  Rohan,  who  had  sought  his  friendship, 
and  this  intimacy  was  the  cause  of  his  being  incarcerated,  on 
suspicion  of  being  an  accomplice  of  the  cardinal.  He  was  ac- 
quitted by  the  Parliament.  Cagliostro  subsequently  spent  two 
years  in  England,  whence  he  passed  into  Italy.  At  Rome,  his 
wanderings  were  brought  to  a  close;  he  was  arrested  in  1791, 
and  sent  to  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  on  a  charge  of  having 
established  a  masonic  lodge,  and  written  a  seditious,  heretical, 
and  blasphemous  work,  entitled  Egyptian  Masonry.  He  was 
condemned  to  death,  but  for  this  penalty  the  pope  substituted  per- 
petual imprisonment.  He  is  believed  to  have  died  in  confinement 
in  1795. 

The  long  catalogue  of  captives  is  now  exhausted;  ruin  im- 
pends over  the  fortress  in  which  they  spent  their  solitary  and 
mournful  hours;  but,  before  its  doom  is  sealed,  we  must  see  it 
changing  its  characters,  and  becoming,  for  the  first  time,  a  place 
of  refuge  to  a  persecuted  individual.  In  April,  1789,  at  a  period 
when  the  minds  of  all  Frenchmen  were  in  a  state  of  fermenta- 
tion, and  when,  like  the  ground-swell,  which  announces  a  coming 
tempest,  popular  outbreaks  were  happening  in  various  quarters, 
there  occurred  a  riot  of  a  very  serious  nature  in  the  suburb  of  St. 
Antoine.  Reveillon,  a  man  of  good  character,  who  had  himself 
risen  from  the  working  class,  was  the  person  against  whom  the 
fury  of  the  mob  was  directed.  He  was  a  paper-hanging  manu- 
facturer, and  employed  three  hundred  men.  The  charge  against 
him,  which  was  calumniously  made  by  an  abbe,  who  was  in  his 
debt,  was,  that  he  had  declared  bread  to  be  not  yet  dear  enough, 
and  expressed  a  hope  that  hunger  would  compel  the  workmen  to 
labour  for  half  their  present  wages.  The  thoughtless  multitude, 


344  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


always  too  ready  to  credit  such  slanders,  immediately  determined 
to  take  summary  vengeance  on  him;  the  first  step  of  the  rioters 
was  to  hang  him  in  effigy.  On  the  first  day  they  were  prevented 
from  going  further,  but  on  the  following  day  they  returned  to  the 
charge  with  increased  numbers  and  means  of  offence.  Reveil- 
lon's  house  and  manufactory  were  plundered  of  everything  that 
was  portable,  and  were  then  burned  to  the  ground.  It  was  not 
till  the  mischief  was  completed  that  the  troops  arrived.  They 
seem  to  have  thought  it  necessary  to  atone  for  their  extraordinary 
delay  by  extraordinary  severity;  a  furious  contest  ensued,  an*d 
between  four  and  five  hundred  of  the  rioters  are  said  to  have 
been  slaughtered  on  the  spot.  Each  of  the  political  parties  ac- 
cused its  rival  of  having,  for  sinister  purposes,  been  the  planner 
of  this  sanguinary  scene.  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion,  Re  veil- 
Ion  was  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  from  the  mob,  and  he  sought  for 
shelter  in  the  Bastile,  where,  during  a  whole  month,  he  deemed 
it  prudent  to  remain. 

In  little  more  than  three  months  after  the  destruction  of  Re- 
veillon's  establishment,  the  storm  of  popular  anger,  which  had 
long  been  gathering  in  the  capital,  burst  forth  with  irresistible 
violence,  and  shook  to  its  very  basis  the  throne  of  France.  Mat- 
ters were,  indeed,  come  to  a  crisis  between  the  royalist  and  the 
reforming  parties.  The  court  seemed  resolved  to  commit  the 
question  to  the  decision  of  the  sword;  a  formidable  force,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  foreign  troops,  was  accumulated  around  the 
metropolis;  and  the  language  held  by  some  of  the  courtiers  and 
ministers  was  of  the  most  sanguinary  kind.  The  Baron  de 
Breteuil  did  not  hesitate  to  say,  "If  it  should  be  necessary  to 
burn  Paris,  it  shall  be  burned,  and  the  inhabitants  decimated ; 
desperate  diseases  require  desperate  remedies."  To  dissolve  the 
National  Assembly  by  force,  and  to  consign  to  the  scaffold  its 
most  distinguished  members,  were  among  the  remedies  which 
this  political  Sangrado  designed  to  administer  for  the  purpose  of 
checking  the  disease. 

As  a  preliminary  to  the  projected  operations,  the  ministry  of 
M.  Necker  was  abruptly  broken  up,  and  another  was  formed, 
composed  of  men  notorious  for  their  hostility  to  the  rights  of  the 
people.  It  was  a  sufficient  indication  of  what  was  intended,  that 
Necker,  Montmorin,  De  la  Lezarne,  De  Puysegur,  and  De  St. 
Priest,  were  replaced  by  Breteuil,  Broglie,  De  la  Vauguyon,  and 
others  of  the  same  stamp.  Necker  was  ordered  to  quit  the  king- 
dom, and  to  keep  his  departure  a  profound  secret. 

The  dismissed   minister  obeyed  the  order  so  strictly  that  not 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  345 

even  his  daughter  knew  of  his  setting  out;  hut  the  ridiculous 
silence  which  was  required  of  him  was  of  no  avail.  On  the 
following  day,  which  was  Sunday,  the  12th  of  July,  it  was  known 
at  Paris  that  the  favourite  of  the  people  was  expelled  from  office, 
and  was  leaving  the  country.  All  the  citizens  were  instantly  in 
alarm.  Groups  assembled  in  every  street,  and  more  than  ten 
thousand  persons  were  soon  congregated  at  the  Palais  Royal. 
Every  one  was  enraged,  but  no  one  knew  what  to  propose,  till 
Camille  Desmoulins  ascended  a  table,  in  the  Palais  Royal,  and 
exhorted  his  hearers  to  take  up  arms;  he  then  plucked  a  green 
leaf,  which  he  put  into  his  hat,  as  a  rallying-sign,  and  the  symbol 
of  hope.  His  example  was  universally  followed.  The  crowd 
now  proceeded  to  a  waxwork  museum,  took  from  it  the  busts  of 
Necker  and  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  covered  them  with  crape,  car- 
ried them  in  procession  through  the  streets,  and  compelled  the 
passengers  to  take  off  their  hats.  Near  the  place  Vendome,  they 
were  assailed  by  a  detachment  of  the  Royal  German  regiment, 
and  several  persons  were  wounded.  The  Germans  were,  how- 
ever, repulsed.  At  the  Place  de  Louis  XV.  there  was  another 
contest.  They  were  charged  by  the  dragoons  of  the  Prince  de 
Lambesc,  who  dispersed  them,  and  killed  a  soldier  of  the  French 
guards,  and  one  of  the  bearers  of  the  busts.  The  prince  himself, 
a  brutal  character,  followed  some  of  them  into  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries,  sabring  indiscriminately  the  fugitives  and  those  who 
were  walking ;  among  those  who  fell  beneath  his  hand  were  a 
female  and  an  aged  man.  The  multitude  rallied,  and  chairs,  stones, 
and  everything  that  could  be  converted  into  a  weapon,  was  em- 
ployed against  the  dragoons,  who  were  finally  compelled  to  fly. 
By  this  time  the  French  guards,  who  were  confined  in  their  bar- 
racks, because  they  favoured  the  people,  had  learned  the  death  of 
their  comrade.  It  was  impossible  to  restrain  their  rage ;  they 
broke  out,  fired  on  the  Royal  German  regiment,  and  then  took 
post  to  cover  the  multitude  from  further  attack.  Some  of  the 
Swiss  regiments  were  ordered  to  reduce  them  to  obedience,  but 
they  refused  to  obey  ;  and  it  was  thus  rendered  obvious,  that  the 
court  had  fatally  miscalculated  in  relying  upon  the  army  for  sup- 
port. 

During  that  night,  and  the  whole  of  the  succeeding  day,  Paris 
was  like  a  hive  about  to  send  forth  a  swarm.  In  the  course  of 
the  night,  the  most  disorderly  part  of  the  populace  burned  the 
custom-houses  at  the  barriers,  and  plundered  the  gunsmiths' 
shops.  Weapons  of  every  kind,  and  of  all  ages  and  countries, 
were  eagerly  sought  for  and  brought  into  use.  In  the  morning,  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


electors  met  at  the  town-hall  to  decide  upon  the  steps  which  ought 
to  be  taken.  It  was  manifest  that  they  had  nothing  to  expect 
from  the  leniency  of  the  court ;  it  was,  in  fact,  understood  that 
Paris  was  to  be  attacked  on  seven  points  in  .the  evening  of  the 
14th,  and  it  was  therefore  absolutely  necessary  to  provide  the 
means  of  defence.  In  a  few  hours  a  plan  was  matured,  and  pro- 
claimed, for  arraying  forty-eight  thousand  Parisian  militia.  The 
alarm-bells  were  kept  incessantly  ringing  throughout  Paris,  and 
drums  were  beating  in  every  street,  to  summon  the  inhabitants  to 
their  posts.  The  scanty  supply  of  arms  was  the  most  serious 
obstacle  which  the  citizens  had  to  overcome.  To  remove  it  in 
part  pikes  were  fabricated,  fifty  thousand  of  which  were  distributed 
within  six-and-thirty  hours.  Fortunately,  it  was  discovered  that 
there  was  a  large  quantity  of  arms  at  the  Hotel  des  Invalides; 
these  were  immediately  seized  upon,  and  thus  28,000  muskets, 
besides  sabres  and  some  cannon,  were  obtained.  Sufficient  powder 
was  procured,  and  hundreds  of  men  were  occupied  in  casting 
balls. 

The  position  of  the  Bastile,  interrupting  the  communication 
between  various  parts  of  the  capital,  and  commanding  a  consider- 
able portion  of  the  city,  was  a  cause  of  much  embarrassment  to 
the  citizens.  M.  de  Launey  had  received  instructions  to  defend 
his  post  to  the  last  extremity.  He  was  provided  with  ample 
means,  as  far  as  regarded  ammunition  and  arms ;  for  he  had  on 
the  ramparts  fifteen  cannon,  and  twelve  wall-pieces,  each  of  which 
carried  a  ball  of  a  pound  and  a  half;  he  had  also  plenty  of  shot, 
15,000  cartridges,  and  31,000  pounds  of  powder.  Besides  these, 
there  were  on  the  summit  of  the  building,  six  cart-loads  of  paving- 
stones,  bars  of  iron,  and  other  missiles,  to  hurl  on  an  approaching 
enemy,  when  the  cannon  could  no  longer  reach  him.  But,  with 
unaccountable  negligence,  no  magazine  of  provisions  had  been 
formed ;  there  was  not  food  enough  in  the  place  to  last  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  The  garrison  consisted  of  32  Swiss  and  82  invalids. 

It  is  certain  that  the  Committee  of  Electors,  sitting  at  the  town- 
hall,  did  not  entertain  any  idea  of  reducing  the  Bastile  by  arms. 
A  sort  of  neutrality  was  the  most  for  which  they  hoped.  That 
this  is  the  fact,  is  proved  by  their  having  twice  sent  a  deputation 
to  the  governor,  calling  on  him  to  admit  a  detachment  of  the 
Parisian  militia,  to  act  in  conjunction  with  the  garrison.  The 
ground  on  which  they  claimed  this  admission  was,  that  the  city 
ought  to  have  a  control  over  any  military  force  which  was  sta- 
tioned within  its  limits.  To  such  a  proposal  the  governor  could 
not  accede  without  periling  his  head. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE.  347 

A  M.  Thuriot  was  now  sent  by  the  district  of  St.  Louis  de  la 
Culture,  to  desire  that  the  cannon  might  be  removed  from  the 
towers.  De  Launey  replied  that  this  could  not  be  done  without 
the  king's  orders,  but  that  he  would  withdraw  them  from  the 
embrasures  to  prevent  their  appearance  from  exciting  alarm. 
Thuriot  was  permitted  to  ascend  to  the  summit  of  the  fortress, 
that  he  might  be  enabled  to  report  to  those  who  sent  him  the  real 
state  of  things,  and  he  availed  himself  of  this  permission  to  exhort 
the  soldiers  to  surrender.  This  they  refused  to  do,  but  they 
unanimously  and  solemnly  promised  that  they  would  not  be  the 
first  to  fire. 

But  though  the  Committee  of  Electors  was  not  disposed  to  en- 
gage in  hostilities  which  seemed  likely  to  be  both  fruitless  and 
dangerous,  there  were  others,  who  were  more  daring,  and  some, 
perhaps,  were  aware  that  the  garrison  had  no  provisions,  and  little 
inclination  to  fight.  From  various  parts,  but  especially  from  the 
suburb  of  St  Antoine,  an  enormous  multitude,  with  every  variety 
of  weapon,  hurried  to  the  fortress,  shouting  "We  will  have  the 
Bastile !  down  with  the  troops  !"  Two  of  them  boldly  ascended 
the  roof  of  the  guard-house,  and  with  axes  broke  the  chains  of 
the  great  drawbridge.  The  throng  then  pressed  into  the  court, 
and  advanced  towards  the  second  bridge,  firing  all  the  while  upon 
the  garrison.  The  latter  replied  with  such  effect,  that  the  assail- 
ants were  driven  back ;  but  they  placed  themselevs  under  shelter, 
whence  they  kept  up  an  incessant  discharge  of  musketry. 

A  dispatch  to  the  governor,  informing  him  that  succour  was  at 
hand,  having  been  intercepted  by  the  committee,  that  body  sent 
a  third  deputation  to  prevail  on  him  to  admit  the  Parisian  forces. 
It  reached  the  outer  court,  and  was  invited  to  enter  the  place  by 
some  officers  of  the  garrison ;  but  either  it  mistook  the  meaning  of 
the  invitation,  or  was  intimidated  by  the  scene  of  carnage,  for  it 
retired  without  fulfilling  its  mission.  The  firing  was  recommenced 
by  the  people,  and  was  answered  with  deadly  effect  by  their  an- 
tagonists. Three  wagon-loads  of  straw  were  now  brought  in  and 
set  on  fire,  to  burn  the  buildings  near  the  fortress;  but  they  were 
so  unskilfully  managed,  that  they  proved  obstacles  to  the  besiegers, 
who  were  compelled  to  remove  them.  While  they  were  thus 
employed,  they  received  a  discharge  of  grape-shot  from  the  only 
cannon  which  the  garrison  fired  during  the  conflict. 

The  French  guards  now  arrived  with  four  pieces  of  cannon,  to 
take  a  part  in  the  attack.  The  sight  of  this  reinforcement  en- 
tirely depressed  the  spirits  of  the  besieged,  which  had  already 


348  HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 

begun  to  sink.  They  called  on  their  commander  to  capitulate. 
Anticipating,  no  doubt,  the  fate  which  was  reserved  for  him,  he 
is  said  to  have  seized  a  lighted  match,  intending  to  apply  it  to  the 
powder-magazine.  A  large  portion  of  the  neighbourhood  would 
have  been  destroyed  with  the  Bastile,  had  not  two  non-commis- 
sioned officers  repelled  him  with  their  bayonets  from  the  danger- 
ous spot.  A  white  handkerchief  was  hoisted  on  one  of  the  towers 
as  a  flag  of  truce,  and  a  parley  was  beaten  by  the  drums  of  the 
invalids.  These  signs  were  unnoticed  for  a  considerable  time  by 
the  besiegers,  who  continued  their  fire.  At  length,  finding  that 
all  was  silent  in  the  Bastile,  they  advanced  towards  the  last  draw- 
bridge, and  called  to  the  garrison  to  let  it  down.  A  Swiss  officer 
looked  through  a  loop-hole,  and  required  that  his  comrades  should 
be  allowed  to  march  out  with  the  honours  of  war.  That  being 
refused,  he  declared  that  they  were  willing  to  submit,  on  condition 
of  not  being  massacred.  "  Let  down  the  bridge,  and  nothing  shall 
happen  to  you,"  was  the  reply.  On  this  assurance,  the  governor 
gave  up  the  key  of  the  bridge,  and  the  conquerors  entered  in 
triumph. 

A  vast  majority  of  the  assailants  were  undoubtedly  brave  and 
honourable  men ;  but  there  were  among  them  numbers  of  the  most 
infamous  of  mankind  ;  men  who  lent  their  aid  in  tumults  only  that 
they  might  gratify  their  love  of  plunder  and  blood.  To  these  de- 
graded wretches  must  be  attributed  the  cruelties  which  sullied  the 
victory.  No  sooner  was  the  day  won  than  they  began  to  gratify 
their  diabolical  propensities.  Their  first  achievement  was  to  at- 
tempt to  throw  into  the  flames  a  young  girl  whom  they  found  in 
a  fainting  fit,  and  supposed  to  be  the  governor's  daughter.  She 
was,  however,  saved  by  one  of  the  Parisian  volunteers.  Others 
were  less  happy.  The  unfortunate  De  Launey  was  massacred 
on  his  way  to  the  town-hall,  after  having  received  innumerable 
sword  and  bayonet  stabs  from  the  savages  around  him.  Five  of 
his  officers  were  put  to  death  in  an  almost  equally  barbarous  man- 
ner. 

The  loss  of  the  besiegers  was  eighty-three  killed  on  the  spot, 
fifteen  who  died  afterwards,  thirteen  crippled,  and  sixty  wounded. 

In  the  Bastile  there  were  found  only  seven  prisoners ;  four  of 
them  had  forged  bills  to  an  immense  amount,  two  were  insane, 
and  the  last,  the  Count  de  Solange,  had  been  confined  at  the  re- 
quest of  his  father  for  dissipated  conduct. 

The  Bastile  soon  ceased  to  exist.  It  was  demolished  by  order 
of  the  civic  authorities  of  Paris  ;  and,  when  the  demolition  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BASTILE. 


completed,  a  grand  ball  was  given  on  the  leveled  space.  The 
capture  and  downfall  of  this  obnoxious  fabric  were  hailed  with 
delight  by  the  friends  of  liberty  in  every  part  of  the  globe,  and 
they  long  furnished  a  favourite  and  fertile  theme  for  moralists, 
orators,  and  poets. 


THE    END. 


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